


Stupid Cupid

by robotjellyfish



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Lance is a Cupid, M/M, college au with a twist of fantasy, lots of fluff and mutual pining, or was a Cupid, shance, these boys are dumb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-03-20 19:52:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 32,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13724796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotjellyfish/pseuds/robotjellyfish
Summary: For years Lance carried out his duties flawlessly, that is until the day he saw Takashi Shirogane. The arrow Lance had to deliver would no doubt bond Shiro with the beautiful woman beside him, but for the first time ever Lance hesitates. He cannot fire the arrow, and the consequences of that decision has an unexpected impact both Shiro's and Lance's fate.What will happen to a Cupid who doesn't fire his arrow?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Valentine's gift for Raphidae for the shance cafe Valentine's gift exchange. I'm sorry this is late and unfinished, the rest will hopefully be up soon. Thank you for your patience and I hope you find this worth the wait. 
> 
> and as a ps for anyone waiting on my updating my other fics, I haven't given up on those they will be updated eventually I promise.

Lance had never considered that when he died, he might become a demigod (of sorts). He'd thought about the afterlife as much as any young man his age might, which was to say very little and in the flippant way of youth, as something that wouldn't happen to him for a very long time, he didn't need to think about it.

 

Raised in Cuba, death was something to be celebrated and not feared. Lance thought he knew what to expect. He thought he was prepared. When he died, he discovered he was wrong. There was far more to death and the afterlife than anyone had ever expected.

 

Now he was a Cupid. Not the Cupid, just a Cupid, one of many in a growing army. With the world's population growing exponentially, and millions of people falling in an out of love every day it was impossible for one man alone to manage the business of love, so Cupid expanded his business and took on employees, delegating the delivery of love to them.

 

Lance had fallen into the job quite literally, after being pushed off a bridge by a spiteful, jealous lover who wanted to leave him for another. Waking up in the afterlife, he found himself in a bright, immaculate waiting room. Everything was white, too perfect and too clean. There was no sound, only the monotonous voice of the man sitting opposite him. The man looked normal enough, but he didn't blink, not even once, all together it was a horribly unnerving combination.

 

He was given two choices, one, become a Cupid and work for the rest of eternity (or at least until humanity went extinct), or two, discover what waited for him beyond in the realm of the dead. His first question, of course, was what waited for him, would the afterlife be as he'd expected? Would his family be there?

 

The man stared at him and only said that he would get sent to an appropriate resting place. Still, he did not blink.

 

Out of fear of the unblinking man, and the things he refused to tell him Lance chose to be a Cupid. At the very least an afterlife of servitude seemed a safe bet, and it came with some pretty sweet perks. He was immortal now, with some minor powers that were pretty damn impressive to someone who'd died in the early 1900s, and he had wings. They were small and fluffy and looked silly, but he could fly. It almost made being betrayed by someone he'd loved worth it.

 

After the initial excitement and disbelief wore off the question of why he was given such an opportunity arose. The answer he was given was that, apparently, those who suffered violent deaths from crimes of passion made the best Cupids. Lance wasn't sure how a bitter, broken heart would help him do his job but he did not question it.

 

In Cupid's realm, the Fates were the ones who watched over humanity, guarding the destiny of every individual and making sure that it ran its proper course. They knew all of the important milestones in a person life, from the moment that they were born, and more importantly, they knew all the bonds that person would form with others. They taught Cupid and all the lesser Cupids that there was more to love than the passionate love for which Cupid was best known.

 

There was the affectionate love between friends who viewed each other as equals, the familial love between family regardless of blood. There was the purest form of love, selfless love, and others beside it. Lance didn't know the full story behind it, but after causing some mischief in the human realm and almost upsetting the balance of fate Cupid's punishment was to deliver all of these forms of love, ensuring that a person was bonded by love to those they were meant to be with. That task had passed to all the other Cupids, and now as well, to Lance.

 

Cupid's arrows were no longer tipped with passionate gold but were now forged from an iridescent, opal-like material that remained mostly white until they struck their intended target. The work of a Cupid was a mysterious affair. They never knew what type of love they were delivering, and on any one day, they might deliver countless variations of love that seemed utterly unfathomable. Other days it was as if they were firing the same arrow over and over again. It could be repetitive and dull, and then joyous and awe-inspiring and everything in between. It wasn't the worst way to spend eternity.

 

“Hey Lance here's your assignments for today,” Blaytz grinned and handed Lance a full quiver of glowing arrows. Blaytz was one of the forgers and keepers of the arrows, his amphibian-like appearance suggesting he was a resident of this realm or one like it, and not of Lance's world. As curious as he was Lance never asked what exactly Blaytz was, or where he'd come from because that would just be rude and his mama had raised him better than that.

 

He liked Blaytz, the man had a cheerful disposition and was easy to get along with. Lance felt he could confide in him and Blaytz appreciated the trust Lance gave him, so the two became quick friends.

 

“Thanks, Blaytz,” Lance winked, slinging the quiver over his shoulder haphazardly causing the arrows to rattle noisily against each other. Blaytz laughed heartily and didn't admonish him for the rough handling, he never did.

 

“Have a good day, man,” Blaytz saluted him. Lance grinned and turned to leave.

 

“Oh, and Lance,” Blaytz sudden solemn tone stopped him. Lance slowly turned back to face him.

 

“The higher-ups have noticed that you're taking a lot of extra time with your deliveries,” he paused, the silence heavy with meaning.

 

Lance frowned and rested a hand on his hip. “It's not like I've ever missed a delivery, I just like to make sure I've done my job properly that's all.”

 

“I know buddy, I get it, there's not a lot of action up here, and you miss it,” Blaytz said sympathetically.

 

Lance flushed. “That's not-I'm not peeping on them,” he spluttered.

 

Blaytz smirked suggestively. “Whatever floats your boat man, I won't judge.”

 

Lance rolled his eyes but resisted the urge to retaliate this time; they would only keep going around in circles if he did.

 

“It's not a part of your job to check on them. The Fates watch over them to make sure everything's going as it should be. All you gotta do is fire that arrow.”

 

Lance's shoulders slumped, and he hunched forward, deflating. “I just like to see them happy….” he mumbled. His heart may be bitter and full of jealousy, but Lance still loved to watch the living fall in love. He enjoyed seeing them together. He liked seeing them smiling and happy, embracing and kissing. Watching two people be in love was the closest Lance could ever get to the one thing he longed for.

 

“Just keep your head low, do your deliveries, and they'll forget about it soon enough, then you can go back to your voyeuristic ways and this time don't get caught,” Blaytz winked. He placed a hand on Lance's shoulder, squeezing in comfort and warning.

 

Lance huffed indignantly and slapped his hand away. “You're the one with his mind in the gutter,” Lance admonished. He ducked away from Blaytz hand and headed towards the door.

 

“Don't worry,” Lance said turning back for a moment he hitched the strap of the quiver higher on his shoulder, “I'll make my deliveries in record time today. Just you wait and see.”

 

* * *

 

 

The first of his deliveries were simple. An arrow that bonded two friends for life, another that warmed the heart of a lonely old man who'd adopted a stray cat he found in his garden, and another arrow binding a new family together at the birth of their child. They were all beautiful, pure moments of love but true to his word Lance only lingered for a few minutes after letting his arrow fly. He stayed long enough to see the two friends awkward first embrace, the man's smile when the timid cat trusted him enough to get close and to witness the parents tears as they held their baby for the first time. There were several other moments besides, but those stood out the most to Lance.

 

He had one arrow left now, an arrow that weighed more than all the others combined even though it looked no different. Lance knew it would be an important arrow, perhaps the most important of the day, and he knew what it was, he'd handled and fired enough of them now to get a feel of what each arrow contained. He always kept these arrows for last, so he could spend his last few minutes of the day in the human world watching as a new couple came together and discovered their love for each other, but today he would just fire the arrow and leave.

 

He found himself on a university campus, and judging by how frazzled and sleep deprived the majority of the people around him were it was coming up to finals week. Lance took a deep breath of the crisp, stress soaked air. He loved places like this. He didn't envy all the hard work and pressure everyone was under, but he did envy the fun and excitement, the vivid thrum of life that permeated places like this, the close friendships and relationships that developed, and the sense of camaraderie that existed between everyone, particularly at times like this.

 

Lance wished he could have experienced this, almost as much as he wished for the one thing he could not have. The memory of a girl with blond hair and cold, laughing green eyes came to him, unbidden. A girl who he'd loved once and who he believed love him back, but no matter how much attention and affection he lavished on her she had never returned his feelings. She proved that when she killed him. He wondered if there had ever been an arrow for them, or if perhaps she had been driven to kill him due to being struck by an arrow for another.

 

He didn't dare ask.

 

He could see her easily fitting in in a place like this. She could place herself in the middle of any group and instantly become the centre of it and have everyone hanging off her every word. She would toss her golden hair over her shoulder and laugh, and they would all be hooked, just as he had been.

 

He watched the groups of people that mingled on the grounds, friends and couples, and some happily sitting alone, all comfortable, enjoying their lives and sharing their woes. Lance had shared everything with her, and shown her he would accept every part of her. He wondered if things would be different if they were together now, in a different time and place. Would she laugh with him, smile with him and share her troubles? Would she love him?

 

Shaking his head firmly he pushed her memory to the back of his mind where it would continue to eat away at him as it always did, but he had no time to worry about that now. He had a job to do.

 

Just touching the arrow wouldn't tell him who it was destined for, he didn't see a flash of their face nor did he know what they looked like, he was merely compelled to go to a place, and wait. He would know them when he saw them though, as a dizzying sense of deja vu he would be drawn to them, and it would be time to fire the arrow.

 

Until then all he could do was wait, and while he waited, he may as well have a little bit of fun. He couldn't be told off for lingering if he hadn't seen his target yet.

 

Lance weaved his way through the crowded grounds pausing near various groups of people for a few moments to eavesdrop on their conversations and share their jokes. If he only stayed for a moment, it was easy to pretend he was a part of their group, sharing their lives. He would laugh at a joke or listen intently to some anecdote, and when it came to a point where he was expected to contribute when he could no longer pretend he was a part of their conversation he moved on to the next group.

 

No one could see him, even if he wanted them to. Lance floated through the human world like a ghost, he could observe, and he could go to the places where the arrows were needed, but he could do no more than that. He was not allowed to distract them or interfere with their lives. He was only permitted to deliver the arrow.

 

His wandering took him towards a tree, a large, towering specimen that stood in the very middle of the grounds. It was an evergreen, its leaves still bright and vibrant even in the chill of late December. In the warmer months, he was sure people would crowd to sit beneath its shade, but now people skirted around it, barely sparing the tree a glance.

 

It was beautiful Lance thought as he stepped towards the tree and stopped beneath it looking up at the thick canopy, the leaves swayed gently, dancing in the breeze. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the breeze and the whisper of the leaves above him. It was comforting. After a moment he opened his eyes and turned his attention to the thick trunk, he was not surprised to see several hearts and other things carefully carved into the bark. He lifted his hand and traced one of the hearts and the letters inside it, the bark was rough and scratched against his fingers, but he smiled.

 

Lance had the power to touch the human world to some extent. He could not touch people, but if he focused he could touch other things and feel them beneath his fingers. He scratched at the bark absently wondering how old the tree was, and how long it had stood on the campus grounds watching everything.

 

“-we must focus on this project, there isn't a lot of time left, and we cannot afford to fail.” The voice of a woman carried over to him, terse and sharp, full of authority, a voice that commanded attention. Lance turned towards her.

 

She marched briskly passed the tree, walking tall and with such purpose that anyone in her path jumped out of her way without a second thought.

 

A man followed her, his long strides effortlessly keeping up with her brisk pace.

 

“I know, Allura, I can't afford to fail this semester either,” he answered her in a clipped tone. They were both tired and tense with stress.

 

The woman held Lance's attention; she was so beautiful that it made him catch his breath. Her hair was a cloud of white, as pure as the freshly fallen snow. It fell across her shoulder and curled at the ends in an elegant cascade. The curls bounced as she walked and streamed out behind her. She carried herself tall and proud with the air of someone who was not to be tried with. She was the type of person who could command an army with just a single word.

 

Lance found it hard to pull his gaze away from her, but he slowly turned to look at her companion because he knew now who the arrow was destined for. The man was as handsome as the woman was beautiful, with strong, sharp features made gentle by soft, kind eyes. He was tall and broad with a stature that exuded power and a sense of reliability.

 

Lance's mouth went dry.

 

Never before had he hesitate to fire an arrow. Sure he liked to stay and observe the couples, he enjoyed seeing them happy and in love, and though he might feel envious of what they had he never felt the urge to steal it for himself. He couldn't reach for the arrow. He couldn't move.

 

He stared at the couple, both of them causing his heart to race. They were a vision, the woman beauty and grace, the man striking and strong, a perfect match. Did they even require an arrow? They were so evidently made for each other the little push the arrow provided seemed unnecessary.

 

Lance couldn't tear his eyes away. He could do nothing but watch them.

 

The man's steps slowed suddenly, and he turned sensing a burning gaze on the back of his neck. He looked towards the tree and froze. Beneath the lush leafy canopy, bathed in an ethereal glow and draped in a pure white robe accented with gold, was an angel. He had a godly physique, tall, slender and perfectly toned. His skin glowed a golden bronze, smooth and flawless. A gold circlet sat around his head shimmering like a halo, and over his shoulders peeked the delicate, fluffy arches of white wings. The dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves danced around him, and a faint breeze ruffled the ends of his short, brown hair, and made the white robes billow around him. His eyes, small and framed by thick dark lashes were such an intense blue Shiro could see them even from this distance.

 

Steel grey eyes met ocean blue, and Lance felt his heart stop and time froze. Lance saw nothing else but those grey eyes, eyes that looked right at him with a gaze that seemed to see into his soul. It was impossible, but there was no one else there. There was no one anywhere near him, and nothing eye-catching about the tree, nothing that would make a man look at it like that.

 

Just to be sure Lance glanced over his shoulder and even looked up into the canopy of the tree for a hint of something that might explain the man's intense stare. There was nothing, nothing beside him that could have caught the man's eye.

 

When Lance looked back, the man was still looking at him and slowly walking towards him as if moving through a dream.

 

“Shiro! What are you doing?” The woman's sharp, disapproving voice cut through the spell, breaking it.

 

“Allura, there's some under that tree, he looks like-” Shiro turned to Allura for only a moment to address her before turning back to the tree to point out the figure beneath it, but when he looked again the angel was gone.

 

“The tree?” Allura echoed dubiously. There was no one, and nothing of interest beneath the tree that she could see yet Shiro was looking at the empty spot as if he was searching for a lost treasure that he knew was hidden there.

 

“Shiro are you sure you're ok? Have you been sleeping?” She asked briskly, her tone somewhat sharp and impatient yet full of concern.

 

“There was someone there. He looked like...” Shiro trailed off hopelessly. He couldn't very well say 'like an angel', then Allura would really think something was wrong with him. Shiro was even starting to doubt he'd seen anything even though the man had stood there clear as day, glowing in the weak morning sunlight that managed to filter through the thick, grey cloud.

 

“He? Someone you know?” Allura prompted when Shiro did not continue. She glanced towards the tree again, at least to show she was taking him seriously but there was nothing there of that she was certain.

 

Shiro shook his head. “Never mind,” he muttered quickly, turning away to leave. He hoped she would leave it at that.

 

Lance's heart thumped to a start and was now hammering so hard in his chest it felt like it would burst through his ribs. He could hear the rush of his heartbeat in his ears, so loud it was deafening and made him dizzy. Perched precariously on a low branch he held on tightly with one hand to the branch above him, swaying in an attempt to keep his balance. The branches shook so much with his trembling he was surprised he hadn't given away his hiding spot.

 

The man, Shiro, had seen him. From the snippets he could hear of their conversation, there was no doubt about that. But how? Humans weren't able to see Cupids it was impossible. Lance didn't really understand the rules and what-not behind it, but he knew that much. No one living, no matter who they were, could see Cupids.

 

Shiro wasn't dead nor was he some immortal being. He was just a normal human, being a Cupid Lance could tell that at a glance.

 

Maybe the sunlight had got in Shiro's eye and made him see things? Maybe Shiro was tired and just happened to look towards the exact spot Lance's eyes were, sensed something and imagined what might be there without actually seeing him?

 

Lance tried to calm himself with all manner of possible excuses, but no. The intensity of the gaze, the way Shiro had looked directly at him, had been real.

 

He should fire the arrow and leave, that was the sensible and right thing to do. That was his job and that Shiro could see him made no difference. Lance reached behind him with his free hand and pulled out the final arrow from the quiver on his back. It was cool and felt incredibly heavy. His hand was clammy. He held it tighter so he wouldn't drop it.

 

The couple were still there, Allura fretting over Shiro and questioning his health while Shiro tried valiantly to sidestep her and avoid her prying, awkward questions.

 

“It's nothing Allura, really. Let's go.” Shiro dismissed her worry and tried to walk away.

 

It was now or never. Letting go of the branch, Lance steadied himself ready to reach for his bow.

 

As he walked away, Shiro cast one last longing glance over his shoulder at the tree.

 

Lance's hand dropped away from his bow, and he gripped the arrow with both hands. He couldn't just turn away and forget that. He couldn't fire the arrow. His hands shook as he gripped the arrow tighter. It only took a quick flick of his wrist, an almost involuntary action, for him to snap the arrow in half.

 

A sharp crack like a gunshot reverberated across the grounds. A few people shouted in surprise, and everyone turned towards the tree, where the sound came from. An anxious murmur started up, thrumming with tension, one group were already hurring away fearing the worst.

 

Shiro froze in his tracks and turned back towards the tree with Allura.

 

Something stuck Lance with the force of a bullet, it shot through his chest, burst through his back and spread across his shoulder blades as a searing pain. It hurt so much he couldn't make a sound. His body jerked, and he dropped the pieces of the arrow, his vision swimming as the world went in and out of focus. Pitching forward Lance lost his balance, and though he knew he was falling he could do nothing to stop it, he couldn't even move his arms. He fell out of the tree, his body landing with a muffled thump on the ground beneath it.

 

Several people screamed while others stared openly in horror unable to move. A few took disbelieving steps back, ready to run.

 

Shiro was the first to recover. He ran towards the tree and the crumpled figure beneath it. He'd seen the figure as he fell, he knew who it was. It was the angel. His skin no longer glowed and the white robes looked as dull as an old bed sheet, the circlet around his head looked like cheap plastic, and there was no sign of wings, but it was the angel, still so beautiful. After only one brief glance, Shiro would recognise him anywhere.

 

He swallowed thickly and crouched down next to the man. He ran to him on instinct, but now that he was here, beside the man Shiro didn't know what to do next.

 

“Hey, buddy. Can you hear me?” He spoke clearly and slowly trying to keep his voice calm. He was afraid to touch or move the man. The man groaned in response, which was a good sign he supposed. It showed the man was conscious. He tried again.

 

“Come on speak to me!” He demanded his tone a little sharper and authoritative but still calm. “Do you want us to call an ambulance?”

 

He heard footsteps behind him, and a shadow stood over him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Allura peering over his shoulder her phone held at the ready. Shiro tilted his head enough to smile weakly at her, but he kept his attention on the man on the ground.

 

“No...no...” the man mumbled his head lolled back and forth on the grass, eyes dazed and unfocused. They didn't seem to be seeing Shiro, or anything else around him.

 

“Hey, it's ok. Try not to move so much,” Shiro said soothingly. He pressed a hand against the man's cheek holding his head still.

 

The man stopped trying to shake his head, and his eyes wandered towards Shiro, still struggling to focus but now aware that someone was there.

 

“I can't-” the man mumbled, his body going slack he fell unconscious before he could finish speaking.

 

Shiro's pulse raced in alarm, a lump forming in his throat. He swallowed it down and forced himself to keep calm as he felt the circle of curious onlookers tightening behind him.

 

“Is he ok? I really think we should call an ambulance to be safe,” Allura said cautiously, but she made no move to dial the number.

 

Shiro's hand slid from the man's cheek to his neck, his fingers pressing against his throat. It took some prodding, but he quickly found a strong pulse and let out a shuddering gasp of relief.

 

“No. He said not to,” Shiro answered firmly. He heard Allura hum disapprovingly, and he didn't need to look to know her lips were set in a hard, thin line, but she slipped her phone back into her pocket.

 

Under any other circumstance, Shiro would agree with her, and called an ambulance regardless. Getting professional medical help was the best course of action, but it wasn't just the man's reluctance that stopped him. Shiro had seen him standing beneath the tree a moment ago, and perhaps Shiro could fool himself into believing the glow and the wings were a trick of the light but even then there was more to the man than that. There was something about him, something strange and mysterious that told Shiro calling an ambulance was not a good idea.

 

He scanned the man's body for any sign of visible injuries or limbs twisted oddly, but apart from the strange costume and the fact he was unconscious the man appeared unharmed.

 

“A little early for a toga party isn't it?” Allura mused as she crouched down next to Shiro.

 

“He might be a theatre major?” Shiro pondered, it would explain the unusual costume. Allura hmphed.

 

The crowd behind them was getting restless. The muttering was growing louder, and several people had phones out taking photos and videos. Shiro had to get the man out of there.

 

“It's ok he's fine, he's just a little drunk. He's a friend of mine, so I'm going to take him back to mine to recover,” Shiro called over his shoulder, twisting around slightly so he could address the people crowded behind them. A fresh murmur rippled through the crowd and a few people broke away thankful to avoid any culpability over what had happened. Others lingered, muttering suspiciously amongst themselves. They most likely suspected the man was high as well as drunk, but no one was brave enough to question Shiro. No one wanted to get involved.

 

While Shiro was addressing the crowd, Allura had shrugged her coat off. She draped it over her arm and handed it to Shiro when he turned back.

 

“Here, wrap that around him. He looks like he needs it,” she commanded smartly.

 

Until then Shiro hadn't even thought to cover the man. He took her coat gratefully. It was long and well padded and would do a better job than his own jacket of keeping the man warm. He draped it over the stranger and carefully tucked it around his shoulders before taking off his jacket and handing it to Allura. He refused to allow her to go without a coat in the chill.

 

“Swap,” he said with a grin.

 

Allura rolled her eyes at the chivalrous gesture but took the coat and slipped it on.

 

Shiro turned back to the man and adjusted Allura's coat over him making sure it covered as much of him as possible before he carefully scooped the slender figure up in his arms. He was heavy, his weight telling of all the firm, defined muscle in his tight frame. Shiro cradled him close and made sure the man's head was resting securely against his chest before he slowly got to his feet.

 

“Are you sure about this?” Allura asked, her arms wrapped around her waist holding Shiro's coat as tight as possible around her lithe frame. She was already shivering. Shiro felt a small stab of guilt, but he couldn't abandon the man now.

 

“It's fine. If he doesn't wake up soon I'll call an ambulance,” he promised. “Go on home. I'll call you if I need anything.”

 

Allura hovered for a moment, reluctant to listen to him. “Fine. But you better call me the moment he wakes up, and you'll call me in the morning too, so I know you haven't been murdered in your sleep or something,” she huffed.

 

Shiro laughed.

 

“I don't think we need to worry about that. He looks harmless,” Shiro said gazing down at the soft, angelic features.

 

Allura rolled her eyes and dug her hand into the pocket of Shiro's coat, pulling out his keys.

 

“You'll be needing these,” she said smartly.

 

“Oh. Thanks!” Shiro flushed and smiled at her gratefully. Allura stepped forward and hooked the keys over Shiro's crooked finger.

 

“Are you sure you can manage?” She asked one last time. Shiro nodded.

 

“Very well. Be careful,” she warned before turning around to make her way home.

 

Shiro set off, moving at a brisk walk taking care not to jostle the young man in his arms. His apartment was close, and he made it there in record time. It took some careful, awkward juggling for him to open the door when he got there, but he managed to get the key in the lock and get into the apartment without dropping the keys or his unconscious charge. He hurried to his bedroom and gently set the stranger down on the bed.

 

“Now what?” Shiro muttered taking a small step back. He hovered for a moment before gingerly sitting on the edge of the bed. Shiro gazed down at the man getting a better look at him. He had a sweet, heart-shaped face, thin lips and a cute upturned nose. His dark lashes were long and thick, fluttering faintly as his eyes moved under closed lids, which reassured Shiro somewhat. He lifted a hand to brush his fingers against one of the man's high cheeks. He expected the golden bronze skin to be warm, but instead it was cold.

 

Shiro cursed and jumped off the bed. Grabbing the blankets, he lifted them up and pulled them over Lance, tucking them around him tightly. He went to his wardrobe and grabbed a spare blanket and draped that over the man too. Shiro would have kept adding layers if he had more but that was all he had. He hoped it would be enough.

 

“Please be ok,” he whispered perching on the edge of the bed again. He reached out to touch the man again tucking a strand of the soft brown hair behind his ear. Even his hair was cold.

 

There was nothing else he could do. All he could do now was wait, and hope that the man would wake up soon.

 

* * *

 

 

After some consideration, Shiro decided he would wait ten minutes before properly panicking. He knew that an unconscious person should recover consciousness reasonably quickly, under normal circumstances. It had taken him maybe five minutes to get to the apartment so allowing an extra ten was ample time, maybe too much time. Shiro hoped that the man woke up before then.

 

Ten minutes wasn't a particularly long time but the seconds dragged by at an agonisingly slow pace. Shiro's nervous fingers kept pressing against the pulse point at the man's neck and hovered over his lips to make sure he was still breathing. He watched the man's face intently, chest light with hope whenever he saw the other's eyelashes flutter only to tighten again when the man stilled.

 

Maybe he should check the fridge? There was probably something in there foul smelling and decaying enough that it would wake the dead, but he was wary of leaving the man.

 

Roughly two minutes had passed when Shiro heard the first groan. He jumped and quickly moved his hand away, bracing it on the bed next to the man's shoulder. He leaned closer, bent low over him watching his face intently for any signs of him waking up.

 

“Hey, can you hear me?” He hissed desperately, silently praying for the man to answer, to say anything.

 

The man grumbled, not really words but it was a reply. Shiro sagged in relief, his heart racing with the rush. The man was going to be ok.

 

The man turned his head, a frown creasing the corners of his mouth. He seemed to be trying to roll over, but either didn't have the coordination or the strength. When it was evident he couldn't move he stopped struggling and slowly opened his eyes. Blinking a few times, he attempted to focus on the narrow, unfamiliar scene in front of him. He was in a bed, a bed that wasn't his own.

 

With great effort, he turned his head back looking up at Shiro hovering above him grey eyes stormy with worry. He blinked again, staring into the storm but not understanding it.

 

“Hi. You had a little accident, but you're ok. Can you tell me your name,” Shiro asked, oblivious as to how close he was and how badly he was invading the others personal space.

 

“Lance...” Lance answered hesitantly as if he wasn't entirely confident that was right. His eyes narrowed, and a frown creased his brow as he tried to clear his head and think.

 

“Name's Lance,” he slurred after a moment, surer this time, though he was still very disorientated.

 

“Nice to meet you, Lance,” Shiro smiled letting out a huff of relieved laughter. “My name's Shiro.”

 

Lance blinked at him again, still confused, and said nothing. He continued to stare at Shiro.

 

“You fell out of a tree, and you've been unconscious for a little while,” Shiro explained calmly. He paused for a moment giving Lance time to absorb the words. He waited until Lance blinked slowly again to continue.

 

“Can you tell me if anything hurts? Can you wiggle your fingers and toes?”

 

Lance frowned and grumbled, annoyed at being asked to do something that at the moment felt far too tasking. He wiggled his shoulders, and Shiro felt a faint movement through the covers as Lance moved his fingers and toes as well.

 

“I'm good,” Lance said thickly, his eyes heavy. He wanted to close them again. He wanted to sleep.

 

“Hot though,” he mumbled his words slurring together, but Shiro understood them. He quickly pulled the spare blanket off and tossed it on the floor, then he untucked the other blankets and pulled those back so he could get at Allura's coat, still wrapped tightly around Lance. He carefully unwrapped it from around Lance and tossed that on the floor too. When he was done, he replaced the single duvet over Lance but didn't tuck it around him this time.

 

Lance sighed, already feeling better now he could move more freely. He sank into a more comfortable position on the bed his eyes closing.

 

“Hey don't go to sleep just yet. I need you to sit up for a moment so I can check you over,” Shiro instructed.

 

Lance groaned and scrunched his eyes shut tight, his lips pressed tightly together in a stubborn frown.

 

“I promise you can go to sleep as soon as I give you the all clear, it'll only take a moment,” Shiro coaxed. Lance could move all his limbs, and he seemed all right, but Shiro was reluctant to allow him to go straight back to sleep without making absolutely sure.

 

Shiro stood and moved to the head of the bed. Stooping over Lance, he slid a hand under him and curled his arm around the other's shoulders to provide him with some support as he tried to sit up. Despite his protests, Lance was trying, he could feel the other struggle with his waning strength, his body trembling with the effort. Shiro held on tighter and did most of the lifting. When Lance was sitting up Shiro adjusted the pillows with his free hand before gently resting Lance against them.

 

“There. That's not so bad is it,” Shiro said brightly. Lance groaned in disagreement.

 

“Head hurts,” Lane grumbled, the effort of sitting up making the room spin more than it already had been.

 

“Did you hit it when you fell?” Shiro asked, his anxiety spiking again. His hand moved to Lance's head without thinking, fingers trailing gingerly through his silky hair searching for any lumps or bumps. He leaned in closer, fingers curling around the back of Lance's head, drawing Lance towards him as they continued their search. He only noticed how close they were to each other when he felt Lance's hot breath hitch against his neck.

 

Shiro snapped back abruptly, snatching his hand away. “Sorry, I'll get you some ice.” He wasn't sure if it was the dizziness or their closeness that had made his breath hitch like that, and now was not the time to allow himself to be distracted by such a question. Lance needed treatment.

 

He dashed out the room and hurried to the kitchen to raid the freezer. He found a bag of unopened frozen peas that would do the trick and a clean tea towel. Perfect. Wrapping the bag of peas in the towel and hurried back to the room.

 

“This should do the trick,” he said, holding the securely wrapped bag up proudly.

 

Lance scowled at it. He couldn't tell what it was or why Shiro seemed so pleased with himself.

 

“Do you think you can hold it against your head?” Shiro asked. He sat down on the bed next to Lance and held out the make-shift ice pack to him.

 

Lance looked at him, eyes still slightly out of focus. He lifted a hand but it shook so much Shiro already knew the answer. Shiro smiled sympathetically and shifted on the bed, lifting his legs up so he could sit properly on the bed with his back against the pillows, side by side with Lance.

 

“Just point to where it hurts.” Shiro looped his left arm around Lance's shoulders again, holding the ice pack in his left hand. He waited for Lance to point to the sore spot before tenderly pressing the ice pack against his head. He had to crook his arm at an odd angle to hold the ice pack there, but Shiro didn't complain.

 

Lance hissed at the initial contact and turned into the crook of Shiro's arm, leaning into his chest and resting his head on Shiro's broad shoulder.

 

“Is that better?” Shiro asked his voice going a little higher. He tried not to focus on or enjoy the feeling of Lance curled up against him. No, now was not the time.

 

Lance hummed in affirmation his heavy eyes sliding closed again.

 

“Hey not just yet, you need to stay awake for a little longer,” Shiro chided, shaking Lance lightly. Stubbornly, Lance's eyes remained shut and already his breathing was soft and even.

 

“Oh man,” Shiro sighed wondering if he should wake Lance up or not.

 

The heat of his breath warmed Shiro's neck, and he could feel the subtle rise and fall of Lance's shoulders as they moved with his breathing. Shiro wrapped his arm a little tighter around Lance. This was probably ok. He could monitor Lance and easily noticed any change.

 

“Fine. Five minutes,” he said strictly, he wasn't sure if he could handle much more than that. Everything around him was getting uncomfortably warm, except for the hand holding the ice pack which was starting to go numb. He held it away from Lance's head for a moment, not wanting to give the other brain freeze or something by holding it in place for too long.

 

He was very aware of the curve of Lance's body against him, how firm and defined his figure felt. Shiro coughed sharply and shifted on the bed adjusting himself a little so they could both sit more comfortably. His arm was starting to ache from staying in such an odd position, but the tingle of pins and needled and the chill of the ice pack wouldn't stop him.

 

Shiro kept moving the ice pack and pressing it against Lance's head again periodically until the condensation had seeped through the towel and it was too damp to use any more. The ice pack was thrown on the floor along with everything else, and Shiro rested his hand on Lance's shoulder.

 

Maybe he should probably try to wake him now? Shiro tilted his head, resting his cheek against the top of Lance's head, but another five minutes wouldn't hurt.

 

He let Lance sleep for much longer than five minutes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Shiro? Allura told me you brought a weirdo home,” Keith yelled as he stepped into the apartment and let the door slam shut behind him.

 

Shiro startled awake, jolting Lance who was lying against his chest, nestled in the crook of his arm.

 

Lance groaned and tucked his head into Shiro's neck, pressing closer to get away from the noise that was trying to wake him.

 

“Shiro you in here?” Keith called, still shouting so that he could be heard throughout the little apartment. Without so much as knocking Keith threw the door open and let himself into Shiro's room.

 

“Oh...” he uttered as he caught sight of the two on the bed. His surprises quickly turned into a sly smirk.

 

“You know it you had a secret boyfriend you didn't have to go to all this trouble to get him here, you could have just told me,” Keith leaned against the door frame his arms crossed over his chest.

 

“He's not-I'm just keeping an eye on him-he was sleeping,” Shiro spluttered.

 

Lance groaned irritably and lifted his head. “Will you please be quiet!” he snapped. His eyes widened as he found himself in an unfamiliar place, around unfamiliar people.

 

“What...who are you?” Lance demanded, his voice rising in panic.

 

“It's ok. We aren't going to hurt you. My names Shiro, don't you remember? You fell out of that tree, and I brought you back here to recover. You're in my room,” Shiro explained evenly. He moved away from Lance and got up off the bed giving the confused man some room to breathe.

 

“This is my roommate Keith,” he went on, indicating Keith with a sweep of his hand.

 

“We just want to help you,” Shiro assured gently.

 

A hazy memory returned to Lance. He saw Shiro hovering over him, asking him questions and checking if he was ok. He'd thought it was a dream, just as he was sure Shiro seeing him beneath the tree had been a trick of his mind.

 

It couldn't be...this couldn't be real. Lance looked down at his hands wiggling his fingers slowly as if he couldn't quite believe they were his own. His body felt different, it felt heavier, and everything hurt. His back ached, and his chest felt tight and sore. The weight of being alive so heavy it made him sag. Had being alive always felt so heavy and painful? He groaned, doubled up and held his head in his hands feeling dizzy.

 

How was this possible?

 

“It's ok, take it easy,” Shiro rushed forward and placed a hand on Lance's shoulder, light and reassuring. Lance flinched despite gentle touch.

 

Shiro drew his hand back but stayed close.

 

“Should I go get some water or something?” Keith offered. His arms dropped to his sides, his smirk replaced by a concerned frown. He hovered in the doorway awkwardly, not sure what he could do to help.

 

“Please,” Shiro nodded. He turned to Keith for a moment, offering him a weak smile before turning his attention back to Lance.

 

“Do you want me to call someone for you?”

 

Lance shook his head. He was shaking, his breath coming in small gasps. What was he supposed to do now? What could he do? Why was he human? Too many questions swam through his mind, making his head spin.

 

“Ok then. Why don't you lie down, just relax,” Shiro said soothingly. He touched Lance shoulder again, holding a little tighter when Lance didn't flinch this time. Gently he guided Lance back into the comfort of the bed. He adjusted the pillows under Lance's head and pulled the blankets over him.

 

Keith returned silently, placing the glass of water on Shiro's desk before moving back to hover in the doorway.

 

“There's some water for you on the desk if you want it. Let me know if you need anything else ok.”

 

Lance didn't answer. He rolled over onto his side, his back to Shiro and Keith and curled up tight. Somehow, despite the was his mind was racing, he was asleep again within moments.

 

Shiro watched him, letting out a long sigh.

 

“What was that about?” Keith whispered. He kept his voice low to avoid waking Lance.

 

“I don't know. He just fell from this tree, and I brought him back here because he didn't want an ambulance. All I know if that his name's Lance,” Shiro explained.

 

“Well, something's clearly wrong with him. What are you going to do?”

 

“Let him sleep for now. I'll try to find out more when he wakes up again, and he's calmer.”

 

Keith sucked in a breath between his teeth, disapproving. He wasn't happy with the arrangement, but he wasn't about to throw Lance out on the street either.

 

“Ok. Call me if you need any help.” Keith cast a wary glance at the figure on the bed. He looked harmless, but his strange behaviour had Keith on edge.

 

“I will. Thanks, Keith.”

 

* * *

 

When Lance next woke it was dark, The lights were off, and the curtains were drawn. Outside it was night. He lay in bed staring into the darkness slowly piecing together everything that had happened.

 

As soon as he'd seen Shiro and Allura he'd been captivated by them, he couldn't take his eyes off them. Shiro had caught him staring, somehow Shiro had seen him. Lance hid in the tree the moment Shiro looked away, and he should have fired the arrow then, but he didn't. A wild urge overtook him, and he snapped the arrow in half. There was a loud crack, then pain as if something had hit him.

 

After that, it was all a little hazy. He vaguely remembered falling from the tree, and hearing voices. Shiro's voice probably. Shiro had then brought him back here, to Shiro's room, Shiro's bed.

 

He was no longer a Cupid, not fully anyway. He couldn't feel the familiar warm buzz of power coursing through his body. He didn't feel completely human either, at least this wasn't how he remembered being alive felt. Had his chest always been this tight? Had his skin always felt this itchy and uncomfortable? He felt like an imposter, a fake. Something that was trying to be human but wasn't quite sure what that entailed.

 

He'd broken an arrow. There was no way he was going to get away with that, and no way he'd just be given another shot at life again because if it. There would be consequences.

 

This had to be some form of punishment or a test. Either way, he had to right his wrongs, and what might happen to him after that...now wasn't the time to think about it.

 

Lance groaned and rolled over in bed. His feet bumped against a heavy, solid weight. He twitched and drew his feet back curling his legs up against his chest. He waited and held his breath, but there was no movement or sound from the end of the bed.

 

Cautiously Lance stretched his legs out again and slowly say up. Shiro sat at the end of the bed, his back against the wall, his legs bent over the space Lance’s feet had been occupying.

 

He was asleep.

 

Lance let out the breath he was holding and flopped back into the other corner of the bed beside the pillow. He looked down at himself. He still looked the same except for the fact his skin looked dull after losing the glow Cupid's power gave. He reached behind his back, straining his arms to pat his shoulder blades. No wings. He'd been expecting that, but it still threw him. His back at least felt a lot lighter, though the absence of the wings put him off balance. Everything felt wobbly. He leaned against the wall and held a hand over his heart, feeling the strong thump against his palm. It was weird and made him feel nauseous.

 

He dropped his hands away from his chest and looked over at Shiro again. The man was still sleeping with a blanket draped lightly over his shoulders. Lance leaned forward and slowly crawled across the bed towards the sleeping figure, drawn towards him as if in a trance.

 

Shiro. His chiselled features were more defined and sharper in the moonlight. His head was bowed in sleep, his chin resting against his muscular chest. With every breath his chest expanded, the rise gentle rise and fall hinting at the strong bulk of muscle. Everything about him exuded power and strength, and Lance wanted nothing more than to touch him.

 

He reached out a hand, fingers trembling, hesitating for a moment before gently pressing his fingers against Shiro's cheek and tracing the strong line of his jaw. His skin was rough with a hint of stubble. Lance's fingers lingered there he didn't want to pull away.

 

Shiro made a noise and Lance snapped his hand back, throwing himself to the other side of the bed as quickly as he could. He froze and held his breath again. For a moment Shiro didn't make another sound and Lance thought he was safe. He breathed again, and his shoulder slumped in relief, and then Shiro opened his eyes.

 

Shiro stifled a yawn and turned his head towards Lance, smiling when he saw he was awake.

 

“Hey, you're awake. How are you feeling?” he asked voice thick with sleep. He yawned again and lifted a big hand to cover his mouth. Lance swallowed thickly.

 

“I'm...okay,” he answered uncertainty. Nothing about this was ok. He was in such deep trouble.

 

“Any pain or dizziness?” Shiro asked patiently.

 

Lance shook his head.

 

“Then you're probably ok,” he agreed with a smile. He climbed off the bed and moved over to his desk to turn on a small lamp. A yellow glow illuminated the room.

 

Shiro shuffled away from the desk and over to the chest of drawers, dragging his feet the whole way. He dug out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and placed them on the end of the bed.

 

“Here, if you want to change,” Shiro offered with a sheepish grin. Lance looked down at himself, remembering what he was wearing and how silly he probably looked to Shiro, and flushed.

 

“Thanks,” he muttered.

 

“Don't mention it. The bathroom is just down the hall on the right if you need it, and I'll be on the couch if you need me.”

 

“The couch?” Lance looked up at Shiro quizzically.

 

“Yeah, I should try to get some sleep, and you seem ok now, so I don't need to keep an eye on you.”

 

“But this is your bed, right? You should sleep here. I can sleep on the couch.” Lance said scrambling to his feet. A strong hand on his shoulder stopped him.

 

“I'm not the one who fell out of a tree this morning. Get some rest. I'll come check on you in the morning.” Shiro patted his shoulder once and moved away.

 

“Good night Lance,” he said the words so tenderly it made Lance's heart jump.

 

“Good night,” Lance said back, his head bowed with the weight of the guilt for what he'd done. Was that why his chest was so tight? Guilt? He'd broken Shiro's arrow, and now he was stealing his bed. “And thank you."

 

Shiro smiled and left the room.

 

For a few moments, Lance didn't move. He looked at his white robes, which were usually a pristine white but now looked dull and grey. They no longer draped over his body, as light as air and so fluid that it felt like he wasn't wearing anything at all. The robes scratched against his skin unpleasantly now and tangled around his legs awkwardly.

 

Getting to his feet Lance swayed for a moment, the loss of his wings was definitely going to take some getting used to. When he caught his balance, he quickly pulled the robes off and tossed them to the floor. He shuddered as the cold prickled against his sensitive skin.

 

Grabbing the clothes Shiro left for him Lance dressed just as quickly. He had to pull the drawstring of the pants tight around his waist and the shirt was baggy, but they were comfortable and smelled faintly of fresh detergent. A nice, clean smell.

 

This was the first time since his death he'd worn something other than the white robes; they were the standard issue for a Cupid and the only thing he'd been given. As a Cupid, they had been comfortable and light, but now he could feel the soft cotton caressing him, as well as the drape of the fabric holding in the warmth. He wrapped his arms around himself and breathed in deeply, enjoying the sensation against his skin.

 

Lance fell back on the bed and landed in a heap. He didn't bother to turn the light off or try to make himself more comfortable. There was no way he'd be able to go back to sleep. Instead, he gazed up at the ceiling and contemplated all the horrible things that might happen to a Cupid who had broken an arrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da, here's chapter two! I've been working on this for a while, I'm sorry it's taken so long to edit. I wanted to update a lot sooner. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Eventually, Lance fell into a restless, anxious sleep that offered little peace. He tossed and turned through the night, haunted by dreams of what he'd done and the crushing sense of foreboding of what might happen to him because of it. Dreams so deeply unsettling that he drowned in them and did not wake once during the night.

 

When Shiro came to check on him in the morning, he found Lance lying on his stomach stretched out perilously close to the edge of the bed, one leg already dangling over the side, his foot dragging along the floor. The too big t-shirt rode up revealing the smooth plane of skin and gentle dip of his back. Shiro could see the bumps of his spine, and the hollow of the small of his back called out to him, tempting him to place his hand there to see how well it would fit against the curve. The sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips revealing more skin, and one pant leg was hiked up over his knee.

 

Bathed in the soft morning sunlight that filtered through the thin curtain his skin held a warm, golden glow. The sun illuminated him, highlighting and caressing every curve of his body making him look a part of it. A drop of golden sunlight fallen from the heavens and resting on Shiro's bed.

 

His short hair kinked at odd angles, hilariously messy and fluffed up in a way Shiro thought only possible in cartoons. The sunshine brushed through his hair too, making the dark brown locks seem bronze flecked with streaks of gold.

 

Even sleeping, his body stretched out long like a cat, there was something divine about the man. Like a fine work of art that Shiro felt unworthy of looking at let alone touching (even with the sleep drool dribbling down Lance's chin). Shiro's stomach did a dizzying little flip, and he forced down the overwhelming urge to take a picture of the beautiful sight before him. Taking a photo of the sleeping stranger would be beyond creepy, he couldn't do that, no matter how much he wanted to remember this moment forever.

 

Shiro dragged his gaze away from Lance and took in the bed and the rest of the room. The pillow lay on the floor halfway across the room, and the blanket was also on its way down held up by one corner pinned under Lance's stomach. With the bed in such disarray, the sheer volume of Lance's bedhair and the frown creasing his sleeping face one thing was clear. He had not slept well.

 

Despite not having slept well himself Shiro felt a stab of guilt. He hadn't noticed anything unusual during the night. There had been nothing to hint that Lance was in any distress. If he had heard something, or if he'd only given in to the urge to go check on Lance, then he could have...

 

'Could have what?' Shiro reprimanded himself, the back of his neck and ears growing hot. He doubted Lance would want to share the same narrow bed with someone he'd only just met, let alone find it comforting.

 

Shiro quickly collected himself. He couldn't stand here all day watching Lance sleep, as much as he'd love to, for one thing, Lance would eventually wake up and catch him staring. The decent thing to do was to wake him up. Moving closer to the bed Shiro stooped over the sleeping man, placed a hand on his shoulder and gently shook him awake.

 

“Lance. It's morning, time to get up,” he called as softly as possible so as not to alarm the other.

 

Lance grumbled, his frown deepening he turned his head and pressed his face into the mattress. He shrugged his shoulders, trying to shrug off whatever it was that was trying to wake him, and when that didn't work he turned to one side, pulling his shoulder out of Shiro's loose grip. He kept turning, rolling over to lie on his back. Unfortunately for Lance he turned to wrong way and he tumbled off the edge of the bed before Shiro could even think of catching him.

 

He landed on his back with a startled yelp and was awake in an instant.

 

Shiro winced. “Sorry. Are you ok?” He asked, quickly crouching down on the floor next to Lance.

 

“That didn't hurt as much as falling out of the tree didn't,” Lance mumble, the fall making him hyper-aware of just how much his body ached all over. He blinked up at Shiro owlishly, wondering if it would hurt less to get up or stay on the floor. Neither option was very appealing.

 

Shiro gave a bark of laughter and immediately looked apologetic for it. He smiled sympathetically at Lance and leaned closer, slipping a hand under the other man's shoulders to help him sit up.

 

“Maybe you should try not falling off things for a bit?” Shiro suggested lightly. His hand dropped from between Lance's shoulder blades, resting low on his back, firm and supportive helping Lance to sit upright.

 

“Great idea! Hadn't thought of that,” Lance replied dryly. He shot Shiro a flat stare that lasted for only a few seconds before he broke into a laugh. The corners of Shiro's eyes crinkled. Lance had a beautiful smile and an infectious laugh.

 

“I take it you're feeling better?” Shiro chuckled a deep throaty chuckle that sent a little shiver down Lance's spine.

 

“Well, other than a severally bruised pride I think I'm good,” Lance said, surprising himself with how steady he kept his voice.

 

“A bruised pride shouldn't affect your legs. How about standing up?” Shiro encouraged softly. His hand pressed a little more firmly against Lance's back, offering support. Lance could feel the heat of Shiro's fingers through the thin shirt.

 

Lance swallowed thickly. “Yeah. I think I can manage that.”

 

Shiro reached for Lance's hand with his free hand, and with his other hand still pressed against Lance's back hoisted him to his feet. Lance didn't have to do much, which was good because with Shiro so close, his big, warm hand holding Lance's so delicately, Lance forgot how to use his legs for a moment.

 

Standing was strange, and he sorely noticed the absence of his wings. Lance swayed on the spot for a moment, his top half feeling too light and off centre. He'd forgotten how to straighten his spin and pull his shoulders back without the weight of the wings, and it took him a moment to adjust to the change, but even after he caught his balance, it still felt wrong. This was going to take some getting used to.

 

“So now that you're up would you like some breakfast?” Shiro offered his hands falling away from Lance when he saw the other man could stand on his own.

 

Food. Real, human food. Lance's stomach growled at the memory of his favourite dishes, and at the prospect of actually eating something familiar, that wasn't the strange food from the Cupid realm.

 

“Definitely!” He said with perhaps more enthusiasm than was normal. If Shiro found it strange, he said nothing and only smiled, a hint of a chuckle slipping passed his lips that made Lance flush and look at the ground.

 

Shiro led him out the bedroom and to the kitchen. Lance followed silently, trailing behind Shiro taking a moment look around as they walked through the apartment. The walls were bare and painted a plain, boring white. Well, Lance figured, students probably had more important things to worry about than home decor.

 

The living room was messy, but a lived-in mess rather than slobbish, and a heavy musky, masculine smell clung to every corner, along with a hint of dirty laundry.

 

The tiny kitchen was tidy, primarily due to it being unused rather than the fact its inhabitants were well organised, and as Shiro rummaged through the cupboards to grab bowls and something for breakfast Lance noticed they were rather empty.

 

It was unmistakably a boys apartment.

 

Shiro placed two bowls and two different boxes of cereal on the little table in the middle of the room and invited Lance to take a seat.

 

“Help yourself,” he said before turning to the fridge to get the milk.

 

Lance looked at the feast laid before him, froot loops and mini-wheats, neither of which he'd ever had before. Unable to make up his mind Lance poured a generous helping of both into a bowl.

 

“Are you sure about that?” Shiro asked sceptically. He didn't try to stop Lance and placed the bottle of milk down in the middle of the table along with two spoons.

 

“Won't know unless I try!” Lance said emphatically. Shiro couldn't fault that logic, but he stuck with filling his bowl with mini-wheats.

 

Lance grabbed the milk, drowning his mix of cereal in it before digging in. The first thing he noticed was flavour, something that was sadly lacking in the food he was given in the strange void like place away from human world, or maybe it was the fact he was just a lowly Cupid that he only got to eat bland food there. Either way, finally tasting something with a unique flavour for the first time since his death, even if the blend of flavours was somewhat strange and probably would have been repulsive if he had a finer pallet, was heavenly.

 

“It's good!” Lance announced enthusiastically after finishing the first mouthful. He scooped up another spoonful of the mush and shoved it into his mouth.

 

Shiro watched, trying not to let his disgust show on his face. He couldn't believe Lance was enjoying the weird mix, but he had to admit, seeing the other man wolf down the food as if he hadn't eaten a good meal in who knows how long was kinda sweet.

 

“If you say so, but I think I'll stick to the mini-wheats,” Shiro said with a shake of his head.

 

Breakfast came with coffee, which was instant and made a little too strong, but after adding several spoonfuls of sugar Lance happily chugged it down.

 

“So what were you doing in the tree?” Shiro asked once they'd both settled down, enjoying their breakfast.

 

The spoon paused half-way to Lance's mouth, and he hesitated for a moment before slowly lowering it back to his bowl. It was a question he had to answer eventually. There was no escaping it, so he may as well get it over with now.

 

“I was hiding,” he answered meekly, hoping he wouldn't have to clarify further.

 

“From what?” Shiro asked a note of urgency in his voice. He was worried, afraid Lance might be in danger.

 

Lance squirmed in his seat. “From someone. I didn't want to be seen.” It was technically the truth.

 

“Hiding from someone? Are you in trouble?” Shiro asked, even more, alert and anxious. Of course, with vague answers like that, he was only going to get more worried. Lance was digging himself deeper.

 

Lance gave a strained smile and shook his head. “No. Well maybe, I don't know,” he sighed, he couldn't help letting his doubts slip out, even though he knew he should be trying to put Shiro's mind at ease.

 

Would one of the Cupids come after him? Or maybe even be Cupid himself? Lance paled at the thought. He hoped, at the very least, Shiro wouldn't get caught up in it.

 

Shiro's expression grew dark and serious, he reached across the table and placed his hand over Lance's. “Do you have someone you can call?” he asked, giving Lance's hand a gentle squeeze the touch silently conveying he was willing to help in any way he could.

 

Lance's breath hitched in his throat at the gentle touch, it was more kindness than he felt he deserved. “No…but I won't stay here. I'll be out of your hair soon!” he said quickly, his mind made up. Whatever this mess was he was going to fix it, he wouldn't put Shiro through any more trouble than he already had. It was the least he could do.

 

“Do you have somewhere else to go?”

 

Lance paused and then shook his head, his gaze dropping down to the table.

 

“Are you from around here? Do you go to school here?” Shiro questioned with a deepening frown. Lance shook his head again.

 

Shiro frown broke into a smile and squeezed Lance's hand again. “Then you'll stay here as long as you need, at least until you plan your next move.”

 

Lance lifted his head. “I could be an axe murderer or something you know,” he warned.

 

“Well, you've spent one night here already an I'm still alive. I'll take my chances.” Shiro took his hand away from Lance's and shrugged.

 

“Is the weirdo eating my froot loops?” Keith interrupted, appearing at the table without either of them noticing, his hair a wild mess and his eyes half closed.

 

Lance turned in his chair to glare at the other man, Keith. Shiro's roommate. Lance didn't remember much from last night, but he did remember Keith as a stoic, shadowy figure hovering in the doorway. He took a moment to scrutinise the other man now. Even with his hair a mess Lance could see the unmistakable shape of a mullet.

 

Lance cringed. A mullet? Really? He may have been dead for over a century, but Lance knew enough about fashion to know that a mullet was horribly outdated. He was none too impressed with the faded t-shirt and baggy sweatpants with holes in the knees Keith wore either, even if Keith was only wearing them as pyjamas, there was no excuse to look so slovenly.

 

Plus, calling him a weirdo was just rude.

 

“The weirdo has a name,” Lance barked.

 

Keith blinked slowly and waited.

 

Lance stared back, the two of them locked in a silent standoff. He'd expected Keith to at least retort in some way, but he appeared to be waiting for something...

 

Oh. Righ. He should probably introduce himself.

 

“It's Lance, my name is Lance and don't forget it!” He huffed before turning back to his cereal, he shoved another spoonful into his mouth and chewed loudly.

 

“Nice to meet you too, Lance. Please, make yourself at home,” Keith said sarcastically. He rolled his eyes, but there was no real malice to his words. He grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and took a seat at the table that could comfortably seat four, although with Shiro's build and the addition of Lance it was a bit of a squeeze.

 

“Did you...mix cereal?” Keith asked, looking at Lance's bowl with a mix of disgust and fascination.

 

“Yes. It's really good, actually,” Lance said defensively, wrapping his arm around his bowl to pull it closer.

 

Keith stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. After a moment of consideration, he grabbed both boxes and poured them into his bowl.

 

Shiro watched with a look of growing horror, which Keith took no notice of. He poured in the milk, dug his spoon in and ate a big helping.

 

After swallowing, Keith gave his verdict. “Weird.” He ate another spoonful anyway.

 

“See it's not that bad,” Lance said, looking pointedly at Shiro before turning back to his own breakfast.

 

“You're both animals,” Shiro said weakly. He was not brave enough to try the abominable combination.

 

“Hunk would be so disappointed,” he added smartly.

 

Keith shrugged and shoved another spoonful of the mix into his mouth.

 

“Anyway, I have a lecture this morning. Can you keep Lance company until eleven?” Shiro asked once he'd gotten over the sight of the two of them eating the dreadful concoction.

 

“I have to babysit the weirdo now?” Keith scowled.

 

“Lance,” Lance corrected him with a glare.

 

“No, I'm asking you to be a good host and not leave him alone in an unfamiliar place. He's going to be staying with us for a while.”

 

“Do I get a say in this?”

 

“Of course, I just...” Shiro trailed off his conviction slipping for a moment. He looked suitably ashamed of himself.

 

“Whatever, as long as he stays out of my room he can stay.” Keith didn't mind, and he knew Shiro wouldn't have offered Lance a place to stay unless he really needed it.

 

“Why would I want to go to your room? I might catch your bad fashion sense,” Lance huffed. Shiro hid a laugh behind his hand. Keith scowled and considered kicking Lance under the table, but no, he would rise above that.

 

“I'm meeting with Hunk and Pidge this morning to run over some homework. You're welcome to join us,” he smirked deviously.

 

Shiro gulped. Leaving Lance alone with the three of them might not be the best idea, but he had no other option. “Play nice,” he warned Keith.

 

Keith smiled innocently.

 

* * *

 

 

They met up with Hunk and Pidge at the campus cafeteria. After some snap introductions and a condensed version yesterdays events, curtsey of Keith, Lance was shoved into the free seat at their booth. Keith took the seat next to him, and Pidge and Hunk sat opposite them.

 

Lance was trapped and at the mercy of their interrogation.

 

“So he fell out of a tree, and Shiro just took him in? Like a stray cat,” Pidge summarised. She gazed at Lance over her large round glasses for a moment before she pushed them up, adjusting them on her nose.

 

“Pretty much,” Keith agreed with a nod.

 

“I dunno man, are you sure this is ok?” Hunk asked dubiously. He glanced over at Lance suspiciously and quickly looked away when the other caught his eye.

 

“Shiro already said he could stay,” Keith shrugged and pulled a few books from his bag, apparently disinterested in the conversation.

 

“But you don't know anything about him,” Hunk hissed, glancing at Lance again. “Sorry man, but you understand right?”

 

Lance smiled weakly and nodded. He understood Hunk's caution even if it was a little hurtful.

 

“Come on Hunk look at him he's scrawny. He couldn't hurt anyone,” Pidge said indicating Lance with a dismissive wave of her hand.

 

“I'm not scrawny. I'm taller than you, and I'm stronger than I look,” Lance gasped. Now that hurt more than Hunk being suspicious of him.

 

“He's a total stranger, did no one ever teach you stranger danger Pidge?” Hunk retaliated.

 

“What are you, five?”

 

“Stranger danger still applies even when you aren't a kid. He could be a serial killer or something,” Hunk said firmly.

 

“Well Keith and Shiro are still alive aren't they?” Pidge reasoned.

 

“Yeah but he could be waiting for the perfect moment to strike,” Hunk retorted.

 

“If that is your plan do you think you could make my death quick?” Keith asked, sounding bored.

 

“Depends how much you piss me off,” Lance deadpanned.

 

Hunk whimpered and sank back in his seat.

 

“Besides we've seen what he looks like now so if he does want to kill anyone he's going to have to kill all of us,” Pidge went on. Hunk whimpered again and covered his head with his hands.

 

“But he better wait until I finish this damn project. I'm not dying until I've beaten this thing. Now, I need to work out these calculations. Let me borrow your phone I'm too tired to do mental math,” Pidge said in a monotone with a resigned sigh. She held out her hand towards Hunk, silently demanding the phone.

 

“Oh no, I'm not falling for that again,” Hunk clutched his phone protectively. “Besides you have a calculator on your computer.”

 

“I don't want to keep switching between windows."

 

Hunk turned further away from her, holding his phone far out of reach.

 

“Ugh fine, you calculate these for me then.” She rattled off a series of numbers, which Hunk did not type into his phone, but Lance heard them, and he remembered each one.

 

He answered as soon as Pidge finished speaking.

 

All three turned to stare at him.

 

“Was...that wrong?” Lance asked, shifting uncomfortably under the brunt of their open stares.

 

Pidge narrowed her eyes. “Hunk check it,” she said, jabbing him with her elbow. Hunk was already typing the numbers into his phone.

 

“That was right,” Hunk gasped staring up the screen in awe.

 

“So, you're pretty smart then,” Keith mused, looking mildly impressed.

 

Lance shook his head. “No, not really. I'm just good with numbers,” he said modestly, the pressure of all of them watching him making him honest.

 

“That's still pretty smart. What about this one?” Pidge rattled off another set of numbers, and after a few seconds of thought, Lance gave the answer. She didn't bother to ask Hunk to check this time.

 

After getting his to solve a few more calculations, and with her excitement growing, Pidge broke off on a long tangent of complicated concepts Lance didn't understand. She was far more enthusiastic about her project than she had been ten minutes ago and seemed to have reached a breakthrough. She also wanted to use Lance as a test subject for...something, and Keith probably would have let her (he did nothing to dissuade her), but luckily for Lance, Hunk stepped in to hold her back. He was still wary of Lance and seemed to have stopped Pidge more out of concern for moral lines she might cross if allowed to do as she pleased rather than out of kindness towards the other man. Still, Lance appreciated the save.

 

So Hunk might not like him, yet, but Lance wasn't one to give up so easily, especially when it came to getting people to like him. And if there was one thing Lance was good it, it was making people laugh and making friends. He folded his arms on the table, leaning across it towards Pidge and Hunk.

 

He'd make them laugh and feel comfortable around him by the time Shiro showed up if it was the last thing he did.

 

When Shiro and Allura met up with them after the end of their lecture, Lance had Pidge, Keith and Hunk laughing with him, and bantering as if they'd been friends for years. Lance sat with them naturally, as if he belonged there. He hadn't been overwhelmed by Pidge and her mischief, he'd passed the 'Hunk test', and Keith seemed more comfortable with him too, sitting close to Lance on the bench they shared.

 

"You're all getting along," Shiro breathed out a sigh of relief.

 

“He's ok I guess,” Keith shrugged. Coming from him, it was a resounding seal of approval.

 

“He's cool,” Pidge chipped in with a sharp nod, her gaze fixed on her laptop.

 

“He's probably not plotting to kill us all, but I still think he's suspicious, no offence buddy,” Hunk added.

 

Lance laughed. “None taken.”

 

They liked Lance. It was a relief to see them so comfortable around each other already, and it made Shiro's chest feel warm and hopeful. That was three of his friends down. That only left Matt and...

 

“Hello, Lance. How are you feeling after your fall?” Allura stepped forward moving closer to the table. She stood a step in front of Shiro and leaned forward, studying Lance with an intense stare.

 

Lance tensed, feeling exposed under her piercing scrutiny as if with one look of her crystal blue eyes she knew what he'd done and was judging him for it. Up close she was even more beautiful, which only made him more nervous. Her beauty, along with everything else, was intimidating and he felt an overwhelming urge to impress her. At the very least he wanted her to stop looking at him so suspiciously.

 

“I...” he started then stopped, hesitating. He knew had to say something quickly or else he would look like a fool, but his mind had gone blank.

 

After a moment of sheer panic, for whatever reason, he grasped at pickup lines. Lance had always appreciated a good pickup line and used plenty of them during his short time on Earth, and as a Cupid, he'd overheard more than his fair share of good and bad ones. A good line, delivered with the right amount of confidence and swagger could break the tension and make anyone titter and flush in delight.

 

Ok, he could do this.

 

“I'm fine, but I think I might be falling again,” he gave a dramatic pause, “right into your eyes. Nice to meet you,” Lance purred. He quirked an eyebrow at her and shot, what he felt, was a sexy, smouldering smile. He held out his hand for an introductory shake. Allura ignored it.

 

“Ugh, so he's fine,” she huffed, clearly unimpressed and now probably with a lower opinion of him than she had before. She straightened up and took a step back. Well, he'd blown that one, but at least she wasn't staring at him anymore.

 

Behind her laptop screen, Pidge snorted and ducked her head lower.

 

Beside Allura, unnoticed by anyone else, Shiro's expression darkened, clouded with jealousy his eyes lost their sparkle. A moment later he replaced the frown with a smile so forced that the corners of his eyes creased making it seem like a real smile.

 

“There doesn't seem to be any lasting damage. I was going to show Lance around now, do any of you want to come?” Shiro offered his cheer just a little fake.

 

“Now?” Allura demanded sharply. She scowled.

 

“Yes. He's only just got here, and he doesn't know anything. At the very least he should know his way around the local area.”

 

“Shiro, we need to work on our project.” Allura tutted and crossed her arms over her chest.

 

“I know, but I can spare a few hours. We can work on it tonight.” Shiro bargained with a hopeful grin.

 

“And I might be busy tonight. I have other things to work on,” Allura said, her voice rising in her irritation.

 

Lance flinched a tight feeling gripping his chest. The force of Allura's anger took his breath away even though it wasn't directed at him.

 

“I only need a couple of hours, Allura. Can't we reach a compromise?” Shiro pleaded, trying to be reasonable but there was a note of tension growing in his voice, and he was close to losing his temper.

 

The pressure in Lance's chest grew tighter.

 

“So what? You're just going to drop everything for this random stranger that fell out of a tree?” She demanded angrily with a wave of her hand.

 

“Yes, he fell out a tree Allura, and he doesn't have anyone to turn to. I already explained this to you,” Shiro said tersely, grinding his teeth together his hands curling into fists.

 

Allura's eyes flashed.

 

Lance couldn't take it anymore. He doubled forward, his hand clawing at his chest, pulling on the baggy, borrowed sweatshirt he wore he cried out in pain.

 

Both Shiro and Allura's anger faded and they turned their attention to him.

 

“Are you...okay?” Allura asked cautiously.

 

Shiro rushed to the table and Keith jumped out of his seat letting Shiro take his place so he could tend to Lance.

 

“Lance, what's wrong? Where does it hurt?” Shiro demanded, his hands hovering awkwardly around Lance, afraid to touch him.

 

It hurt less now that they weren't arguing but pain still thrummed through his body and kept a tight grip on his chest making it hard to breathe.

 

It started as a prickly feeling at Allura's first words of frustration and grew with their frustration until it was unbearable. It was as if he could feel their anger and bitterness towards each other, it coiled around his heart and squeezed, attempting to suffocate him.

 

Was this was his punishment?

 

“I'm fine,” he said shakily. He didn't have the strength to sound convincing. He was shaking.

 

“No, you're not. You're pale and clammy,” Shiro admonished brushing back damp strands of hair from Lance's forehead.

 

“What's wrong?” Shiro asked again, his tone demanding but kind.

 

Lance closed his eyes for a moment enjoying the cool, soothing sensation of Shiro's callus fingers brushing along his burning forehead. They were gone too soon, and the breathlessness and nausea were back with a vengeance. He swayed in his seat.

 

“It's my chest. It's nothing, probably just indigestion.” Lance tried to laugh it off even as his voice trembled. No one bought it.

 

“Here,” Hunk held out a bottle of water, “I only drank a little bit.” He promised.

 

“Thanks, Hunk,” Lance puffed. He took the bottle, but his hands trembled too much. He couldn't open it let alone drink from it.

 

With a gentle smile, Shiro placed his hand over Lance's on the bottle and helped him to hold it steady. Lance's skin was hot and clammy, and Shiro could feel ever tremor that went through those slender fingers. Shiro curled his hand tighter around Lance's, and with his other hand, he opened the bottle.

 

For just a moment Lance was grateful for the sickly trembling that shook his body, it helped mask the sharp twitch that went through him when Shiro touched him.

 

With a gentle, guiding hand Shiro tilted the bottle towards Lance's lips, holding it still for him while Lance drank.

 

“Feel better?” Shiro asked after the other man managed to take a few sips and his breathing no longer sounded shaky and strained.

 

“Yeah, I'm ok. Sorry about that, didn't mean to alarm you guys,” he grinned sheepishly, somehow sounding more convincing.

 

“Do you want to go back to the apartment to rest?” Shiro offered.

 

“No, I'm fine. Really. You should...” Lance trailed off casting a glance at Allura. He should persuade Shiro to go with her, so they could work on their project and hopefully mend whatever was fracturing between them, but Shiro didn't seem to be willing to leave his side after that episode, and Lance was fearful that would only make things worse between them. What should he do?

 

“You should take it easy,” Allura said firmly, catching Lance's eye, “and Shiro should stay with you, to keep an eye on you.” She huffed and did not sound pleased, but the sharp edges of her words were made softer with concern. She shot Lance a tight smile before turning her attention to Shiro.

 

“I'll call you later so we can arrange something for tonight,” she said smartly with a shard of ice to her tone. Lance twitched but, expecting it, he masked it well.

 

“I have something to discuss with Matt anyway. Pidge do you know where your brother is?”

 

“He said he would be in the library for most of the day,” Pidge answered, finally lifting her head from her computer.

 

“Thank you. Lance, take care,” she said briskly before turning away.

 

“See you later,” Shiro called after her. Allura did not reply.

 

Shiro let out a sigh watching her leave for a moment before turning his attention back to Lance. “Do you want to sit here for a bit or go back? I can carry you if you don't feel like you can walk,” he fussed. It was only then Lance noticed Shiro's arm wrapped around his waist (when had that got there?). The other man was sat even closer to him too his leg pressed up against Lance's only a breath away from pulling the other man into his lap.

 

“No no I can walk,” Lance said in a rush a dark flush rising in his cheeks.

 

“Ok then, let's go back to the apartment first. We can plan our next move from there.” Shiro's arm tightened around Lance's waist and lifted him to his feet, just like that. He pulled Lance close, bracing the other man's weight against him as he shuffled out of the booth. Lance could only lean against him limply and allow himself to be carried along.

 

Once they got out of the booth and stood by the table, Shiro took the bottle from Lance and left it on the table with a grateful smile to Hunk.

 

“I'm going to stay here with Pidge and Hunk,” Keith said as he slid back into the seat.

 

“Okay,” Shiro nodded to the group.

 

“See 'ya,” Lance chirped giving a stiff wave as he left with Shiro. The other man's arm was firmly locked around his waist, supporting and guiding him. Lance could feel the powerful muscles in Shiro's arm, and he was pretty sure Shiro could lift him above his head with just one arm, no problem.

 

Lance felt breathless and dizzy all over again, but for an entirely different reason.

 

“So that was weird.” Hunk was the first to speak once the two men were out of earshot.

 

“Hmm, I've never seen Shiro and Allura argue like that,” Keith muttered.

 

“The project must be getting to them.” Pidge winced sympathetically.

 

“Do you think Lance is going to be ok?” Hunk asked in a small voice.

 

“Who knows. It doesn't seem like anything serious, maybe it was indigestion, and he's just a wuss?” Keith said in an attempt to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

 

“Well, Shiro's looking after him now. He'll be ok.” Pidge said authoritatively. She turned back to her computer, and the sound of the tapping keys filled the silence.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I'm ok now, honestly,” Lance said with as much conviction as he could muster. He made no move to pull away from Shiro's embrace though, enjoying it far too much. The arm around his waist had loosened its grip slightly, hovering now and only just touching, but warm and firm enough that Lance knew Shiro would catch him if he stumbled. Enough to make him tingle every time Shiro brushed against him.

 

Shiro shot Lance an indulgent smile and rested his hand on Lance's hip, gently pulling him closer. “You still look very pale, and you're trembling like a little kitten,” he said matter of factly. His fingers curled a little tighter around Lance's hip. He would not let go.

 

Lance pouted.

 

“I am not trembling like a kitten!” Huffing indignantly Lance squared his shoulders and walked a little straighter, but the sudden movement threw him off balance. He stumbled and slumped against Shiro.

 

Laughing Shiro caught him, his arm curling tighter around Lance's waist again. “You're very convincing. Come on, let's sit down again for a moment," he soothed guiding Lance over to a nearby vacant bench. Carefully he lowered Lance down and took a seat next to him, his arm remained coiled around Lance's waist, offering support.

 

“You know you can tell me if something's wrong. If you have a condition or something or if you need medicine, we'll figure out a way to get it...” Shiro trailed off swallowing around the lump forming in his throat. The attack, or whatever it was had been frightening. Until now he'd been running on adrenaline and was more focused on making sure Lance was ok, but now the severity of what had happened was starting to sink in. Something could be seriously wrong with Lance, and he had no idea what it was or how to help. Shiro was shaken and deeply worried for Lance.

 

The ache that gripped Lance's heart at the genuine concern and open affection on Shiro's face hurt more than the pain from his argument with Allura.

 

This wasn't meant for him. None of it was.

 

“It's nothing like that, honestly. It's just...” he hesitated searching for a believable lie that would put Shiro's mind at ease. Lance took a deep breath, the chilly December air nipping at his cheeks and sneaking beneath the borrowed clothes. The cold helped him focus.

 

“It's just this thing that happens sometimes, kinda like heartburn. I get a little pain and feel dizzy, but it passes pretty quickly. I've had it checked out, and it's nothing serious.”

 

Heartburn. That was believable, right? He could only guess at what had really caused the pain, although it was pretty safe to assume it had something to do with him breaking the arrow and the fact Shiro and Allura, far from being madly in love, as they should be, were at each other's throats.

 

If he didn't fix things soon, then things would no doubt get worse for them, and for him.

 

“Heartburn? Was it the coffee? Keith always buys the cheapest coffee he can find,” Shiro scowled. He didn't sound completely convinced, but he was willing to accept the excuse Lance gave. It was good enough.

 

“No, I don't think it was the coffee,” Lance laughed, bright and airy, free of concern. His laugh was almost musical, and the force of his smile blew away the final strands of Shiro's worry. Whatever it was Lance seemed ok now, and that was what mattered.

 

“Anyway, I feel much better, so you don't have to cancel your plans for me. You should give Allura a call,” Lance urged, attempting again to convince Shiro to go with Allura instead. He ignored the selfish voice in the back of his mind that wanted to keep Shiro to himself; it was the same voice that had made him break the arrow. He wasn't going to listen to that anymore.

 

No, it would be better for everyone if Shiro went with Allura. Allura would be happy and if Shiro only spent a few minutes alone with her, then no doubt the passion for the young woman would light in his heart again, and the two of them would be back where they should be.

 

“I'll call Allura later,” Shiro gave a reckless smile, clearly not as concerned about his argument with Allura as Lance was. Before Lance could protest, Shiro spoke again. “Besides we need to get you clothes that fit."

 

“Clothes that fit? What do you mean? What's wrong with what I'm wearing?” Lance gasped, feigning offence.

 

Shiro looked him up and down slowly taking in the baggy, shapeless jeans cinched up tight at the waist, the belt done up on the last hole. The borrowed sweatshirt was huge. It was so big the neck drooped around his shoulders, and the hem came down to his thighs. His look was completed by a tatty pair of trainers, courtesy of Keith.

 

“For one thing you look like you're wearing a sack. A really ragged sack,” Shiro said flatly.

 

“Well, I think I look good.” Lance crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his chin out defiantly.

 

Shiro resisted the urge to agree with him. There was something he found very attractive about Lance wearing his clothes, as badly as they fit. A burning, possessive fire blazed deep in his belly. He wanted to slide his hand beneath that baggy sweatshirt, press his hand against bare skin and pull Lance towards him-

 

Shiro snapped himself out of his daydream before it could go too far. He hardly knew the guy! Thinking about Lance like that was simply disrespectful. He had to get the other man clothes that fit. Now.

 

He narrowed his eyes critically. “Are you sure? At the moment I'd say Keith is more fashionable than you."

 

That worked. Lance gaped at him and looked stricken. His mouth opened and closed a few time soundlessly before he managed to find his words. “But...I don't have any money...” he whined in a small, hopeless voice.

 

“That's not an issue. I have some spare cash saved up so don't worry.”

 

“I'll pay you back...."

 

'Somehow' Lance promised. He wasn't sure how he'd manage that. It wasn't like he could get a job unless he could find something that didn't require proof of identification.

 

Shiro smiled, gentle and kind. He didn't expect any form repayment nor would he ask for it. He got to his feet, his arm slipping away from Lance's waist. The cold nipped hard at Lance's back.

 

“Come on, let's go shopping!” Shiro said brightly, offering his hand to Lance with a playful grin that was far too inviting.

 

“Ok, but on one condition. We only go to thrift stores. The cheaper, the better,” Lance bargained. He held his hand out so they could shake on it. Shiro bit back a laugh and grabbed Lance's hand, pulling him to his feet. He didn't actually shake Lance's hand, he only held it, so it wasn't as if he'd agreed to those terms. Right?

 

His hand lingered in Lance's for several moments longer than was necessary; his fingers hooked loosely around the other man's. It would be so easy to link their fingers together, natural even, and if they held hands, he could catch Lance if he stumbled again. He felt Lance's hand twitch, probably feeling uncomfortable and wanting to pull away. Shiro loosened his grip and let go, his arm dropping to his side. Lance was steadier on his feet now. He didn't need Shiro's support.

 

“Come on. The next bus should be arriving in about ten minutes.”

 

\- - - - In hindsight, it was a good thing Lance had spent so many countless hours lingering in the human realm, watching people and observing the world as it changed. So far he'd managed to bluff his way through everything, and managed not to give himself away by getting excited other the things that were so fascinating and new, such as the sleek refrigerator in the kitchen, Pidge's computer and Hunk's phone.

 

When faced with a bus, however, he found it hard to hide his awe. During his time cars were an exciting, newly emerging technology and the privilege of the rich. He'd never been in any vehicle that wasn't pulled by a horse, so seeing something so big, that appeared to move of its own volition, was quite something.

 

Lance understood the basic idea of an engine, and that something was powering the motion of the vehicle, and while he'd seen the development of cars and other motor vehicles in snapshots whenever he carried out a job, it was something different seeing it in person and actually being there physically.

 

He could hear the rumble of the engine and almost feel it through the ground and in his chest when the bus pulled up beside them. The heady smell of burning fuel stung his nose, and the fumes made his eyes water, but he jumped on fearlessly the moment the doors swung open.

 

Shiro paid for their tickets and Lance scrambled into the first available seat, his hands and face pressed up against the window so he could peer out as the bus began to move. The bus moved smoothly, and almost soundlessly as it started off, the engine only just audible when began to pick up speed.

 

Lance bounced in his seat watching the scenery fly pass with growing fascination. Despite the number of people and seats squeezed in such a small space, the bus didn't seem to struggle in the least.

 

Shiro watched, biting his lip to hold back a laugh his chest swelling and filling with warmth. There was such pure joy in the way Lance behaved, an open, honest fascination with something so simple as if he'd never been on a bus before.

 

...and maybe he hadn't.

 

Something tight gripped Shiro's chest, and he wondered what could have happened to Lance, what had he been through to find such wonder in a simple bus journey. The tight feeling in his chest coiled into a fierce protective urge to guard Lance's naive smile and show him all the things he might have missed out on until now.

 

And Shiro would start by showing him the wonders of the mall.

 

It was nothing like flying, of course. Even with all the marvellous advancements in technology, Lance knew few things could even come close to it, but with the scenery flying past the window at high speed, combined with that strange, weightless sensation of sitting in a moving vehicle, almost feeling as if he were floating, it was probably as close to flying as he could get.

 

When they reached the bustling shopping centre, Lance was reluctant to get out of his seat, he didn't want the journey to end, but the temptation of the stylish shop fronts and crowded sidewalks beyond the window called to him. He followed Shiro off the bus and gazed at his surroundings eyes wide and mouth open in amazement.

 

The streets heaved with people, and although they all walked passed him and mostly ignored him, much as they had when he was a Cupid, this was different. Lance was a part of the crowd; people avoided him rather than towards him, they noticed him and purposely stepped around him rather than finding themselves moved by an undeniable force to step to the side all of a sudden. A few even glanced at him, meeting his eyes curiously before looking away.

 

“Wow,” Lance let slip. He turned in a slow circle, taking everything in still with that wide-eyed, slack-jawed expression.

 

“Are you from a small town, by any chance?” Shiro chuckled, his eyes shimmering with mirth. Perhaps that all it was, and there was no malicious reason for Lance's naivety.

 

Lance stared blankly back at Shiro for a moment, not sure where the question came from and what it had to do with the current situation. His eyes darted from side to side, looking at that crowd. Most people walked with their head down or staring straight ahead, while some groups chatted animatedly amongst themselves as they walked. No one else stood in the middle of the street and gaping at everything like Lance was. For them, this was normal, everyday. There was nothing unusual, and nothing to get quite so excited about.

 

Lance flushed and gazed down at his feet.

 

“Yes, actually. A very, very small town,” Lance agreed, fixing Shiro with a hard stare. It was the perfect cover, and Shiro just handed it to him, it would be rude not to use it.

 

“There aren't many places like this where I'm from,” he added with a sheepish grin. The sights, sounds, and smells around him had been too overwhelming, as often as he'd visited the human world as a Cupid, standing amongst it all again as a living being was something completely different.

 

“Well, in that case, I better show you everything. Shall we?” Shiro offered with a bow and a sweep of his arm.

 

Lance laughed the last tight tendrils of embarrassment uncurling in his stomach. If Shiro was acting foolish as well, then it meant he didn't think Lance was a complete idiot.

 

“Please,” Lance returned with a bow of his own and a snicker he couldn't quite stifle.

 

When they straightened up again, Lance felt he should link his arm with Shiro's or at least hold his hand. Shiro even allowed his arm to hover there for a moment, held out just a little as if inviting Lance to take it, but neither made a move. Shiro's arms dropped to his side, and Lance fell into step beside him.

 

Their first stop a number of clothes shops. Over two hours was spent in various stores with Lance inspecting almost every item and grabbing anything that really caught his attention off the rail to hold against himself and gauge Shiro's opinion of it.

 

After only a few minutes Shiro had a painful stitch in his side from laughing so hard. Lance had an eye for the strangest, most ridiculous items of clothing, so much so that Shiro was sure he was doing it on purpose even though his face remained serious throughout.

 

Out of all the things he picked out though Lance only tried on a select few, and he managed to persuade Shiro to try some of the sillier items with him.

 

In the end, they walked away with a couple of pairs of jeans and pants for Lance, some t-shirts, a warm sweater that didn't swamp him, and trainers that fit as well as some other essentials.

 

A basic wardrobe obtained they were free to wander around some of the other shops. They visited a department store where Lance spent a long time poking at all the electrical items on display, trying to figure out how they worked and testing out all the things they could do. He even enjoyed poking through the homeware sections and the haberdashery, and although he didn't pick anything off the shelf, Shiro had a feeling Lance had been eyeing up the wool.

 

After that was a stop at the bookstore. Lance pulled book after book off the shelf, intently reading the back of each one before putting them back carefully. There were a few that he spent several moments flicking through before returning to the shelf with some reluctance, his fingers brushing against the spine one final time before moving on.

 

Shiro followed him at a short distance and picked up the books Lance seemed to want the most. He insisted on buying them despite Lance's protests. There were several history books, and two were in Spanish.

 

They went into an entertainment store, and Lance listened to every single sample CD that was on offer, bouncing and swaying to the music with the big headphones clamped firmly around his head. He hummed along to some of the more catchy songs, and even just humming, Shiro could tell he had a beautiful singing voice.

 

They even wandered into a store that only sold handbag, because Lance wanted to see what it was like inside.

 

Lance found interest in every single shop they visited, so Shiro could never say no when he pointed to the one he wanted to go to next.

 

Normally the smell alone would be enough to drive Shiro away from the next store, but the bright colours, sweet smells and bubbly music enticed Lance like a sirens song, so they went in. Lance took great interest in all the creams and face masks. He sniffed and poked at all of the testers and tried out the most promising on his hands and arms.

 

When they left Lance smelled strongly of the sweet, floral scented creams, and Shiro's wallet was considerably lighter having brought a wide variety of skin care products, face masks and bath bombs.

 

“You didn't need to buy all of those. I don't need them. I was just looking,” Lance insisted meekly, his head bowed shamefully, but as much as Lance was trying to restrain himself, Shiro could tell how badly he wanted the things in the shop, more than anything he had seen so far today.

 

“It's fine. You needed some toiletries and stuff anyway,” Shiro shrugged. He refused to think about how much he'd spent.

 

Lance looked up at him from beneath thick, dark lashes and although there was a lingering sense of remorse hanging around the slight stoop in his shoulders Lance couldn't hide his growing smile. That smile was all the repayment Shiro needed.

 

“Let's get some coffee,” Shiro suggested, abruptly changing the subject. He made a b-line for the nearest coffee shop, and Lance trotted after him without a word.

 

It was the perfect time of day to stop at the coffee shop, neither too busy or too quiet the atmosphere remained calm and relaxed. Many of the tables were occupied, several of them by students sitting alone, the table in front of them piled high with books and a laptop, others occupied by couples or groups, huddled together talking in low voices.

 

They found a table near the window with big, plush chairs. Shiro left Lance there to sit with all the shopping while he went up to join the line to get their drinks.

 

The line moved slowly, and his phone buzzed in his pocket. Shiro stiffened and with some reluctance pulled his phone out of his pocket. There was only one person the message could be from, and as he looked at the screen, his fears were confirmed. It was a message from Allura.

 

'I can spare a couple of hours from 7. We can meet at my place, don't be late.'

 

Her message was short, and Shiro could read her lingering frustration between the lines, but by some miracle, she didn't seem too angry. He glanced at the small digital numbers in the top corner of the screen; the time displayed there as if it were mocking him. He looked back towards the table. Lance was rummaging through the shopping bags and was currently holding one of the bath bombs in its bright paper bag up to his nose.

 

He scowled and gripped his phone tighter. Sure, he'd promised Allura, but he wanted to stay with Lance a little longer. He was having so much fun. Being with Lance was so liberating, he felt more relaxed and freer than he had in a long time as if the pressure of college had lifted from his shoulders.

 

With a defeated sigh, he turned back to his phone and sent a quick reply.

 

'Thank you. I'll be there.'

 

As much as he was enjoying the reprieve, he knew they had to work on the project, his grade, as well as Allura's, depended on it and he couldn't let her down. Besides, it wasn't as if Lance was going anywhere any time soon. Shiro glanced at the time again. They had just over two hours left to enjoy a coffee and get back. Plenty of time.

 

“Here you go. You said you wanted to try something sweet, so I choose a caramel latte, but if you don't like it we can swap.” Shiro placed the drink down in front of Lance with a smile before he moved over to the take his seat across the table.

 

“It looks good!” Lance said eagerly. He wrapped his hands around the mug and pulled it close, blowing on the drink impatiently to cool it. After several puffs he dared to take a sip, only to wince when the still too hot liquid burned his mouth.

 

“It's good,” Lance huffed, his voice a little strained. He stuck his tongue out and puffed out a few breaths, trying to cool it off.

 

“I'm glad you like it, but maybe let it cool down a little more before drinking again,” Shiro teased.

 

Lance pulled a face at him and stuck his tongue out further.

 

* * *

 

 

After drinking their coffee and enjoying ample small talk, it was time to leave if Shiro wanted to make it back in time to meet Allura. The time had flown by, and Shiro could barely remember what they talked about, but he could remember with vivid clarity the way Lance's blue eyes sparkled as he spoke about all the things they'd seen.

 

Lance was quiet on the bus ride back to campus, tired from walking around all day. Shiro had kept a careful eye on him all through the shopping trip, and although he hadn't shown any ill effects from his earlier attack, Shiro was worried. He wished the bus journey was longer so Lance could nod off (he was already so close to falling asleep), and then Shiro could sit there with Lance's head on his shoulder, his body warm against his side.

 

They reached the campus, and the apartment with just enough time for Shiro to gather his things together and head over to Allura's.

 

“I have to go work on a project, so I'll probably be gone for a few hours. Feel free to use the bathroom or whatever. You should try out one of those bath bombs,” Shiro said as he dashed about his room, shoving books and papers haphazardly into a worn backpack. Lance perched on the bed, surrounded by all the shopping bags, trying to keep out of the way.

 

“Ok, don't work too hard,” Lance nettled with a cheeky smile and a wink. He was glad Shiro was finally going to spend some time with Allura, he hoped it would be enough to at least begin to patch up the rift between them.

 

Shiro shot Lance a weak smile as he hoisted the backpack over one shoulder. “I'll try, but Allura's a real taskmaster. Actually, if I'm not back by ten could you call the cops for me? She might have me chained to the desk,” he said, deadly serious.

 

Lance was the first to laugh, falling back on the bed clutching his sides, which made Shiro break his facade and laugh too.

 

“No but seriously, don't be afraid to call if you need anything, and if I am gone for a long time I might need to be saved….wait, you don't have a phone do you?”

 

Sheepishly, Lance shook his head.

 

“Uh. Ok, um...oh I know, I'll leave my phone here for you. If you need anything you can call Allura,” Shiro said passing his phone to Lance. “Do you know how to use it?”

 

Lance pursed his lips and shook his head again.

 

Shiro sat down on the bed next to him and gave Lance a quick tutorial on how to unlock the phone, view the contacts and make a call.

 

“See, simple right,” Shiro grinned before suddenly tossing the phone to Lance. Lance fumbled the phone for a moment but managed not to drop it. He shot a sidelong glare at Shiro, which Shiro returned with an even bigger grin.

 

“I think I go it,” Lance mumbled looking at the small device in his hands. It was amazing that it could do so much, and it felt so light and delicate too. Lance hoped he didn't break it.

 

Oh God, what if he broke it? Lance may not know much about technology, but he knew these things were expensive. He quickly set the phone down on the bed next to him where it would be safe.

 

“I'll hopefully be back at a reasonable hour, but don't don't wait up or anything if you're tired.” Shiro got to his feet, shooting Lance one final, solemn grin before he left.

 

With that Lance was alone in the apartment, Keith was apparently still with Hunk and Pidge which gave him free reign of the place. Cautiously he picked up the phone again, turning the device around in his hands a few times. Shiro had only allowed him to borrow it for emergencies, and he shouldn't pry, but it was just so fascinating, and a little look wouldn't hurt. Right? He just wanted to see what the phone could do.

 

Wanting to know more about Shiro Lance found himself scrolling through the other man's Facebook feed, reading the little snippets of Shiro's life and that of his friends. But there were so many unfamiliar names and out of context messages, the vast majority of them seemed to have nothing to do with Shiro, that it was like trying to piece together a puzzled with only a handful of pieces. Lance didn't get it. He closed the app and poked through the various games Shiro had on his phone instead.

 

He tried out a few but couldn't make much sense of them either, and after losing several games in a row, he closed those too before he accidentally broke Shiro phone out of frustration.

 

Next, he opened up the image gallery and found hundreds of photos of Shiro and his friends. Lance smiled as he scrolled through them, opening each one to study it properly. Allura, Keith, Hunk, Pidge and a man Lance didn't recognise but who looked eerily like Pidge appeared in the majority of the photos, in varying combinations, some with Shiro in them, and some without. There were several photos of Shiro on his own, some of him flexing in front of a mirror that he probably didn't want anyone else to see, but they made Lance laugh and smile fondly. He ran his finger over the photo, tracing the well-defined muscles in Shiro's arms. He wished he could touch the real thing.

 

In every photo, even the ones where he was on his own, Shiro was laughing and smiling. The crinkle in the corner of Shiro's eye when he smiled was beautiful.

 

Then Lance came upon a photo of Shiro with his arm around Allura's shoulders, pulling her into him and pressing a big sloppy kiss to her cheek. She was laughing and trying to get away from him. Lance felt a sharp stab in his chest and quickly closed the image.

 

After that, he found the camera. It amazed him how a camera could fit into the phone, along with everything else, and that it could take a photo in an instant. He couldn't resist the temptation of testing it out. First, he took a few test photos of the room, which was quite dull, but after fiddling around with the settings, he managed to flip the camera and set in on selfie mode.

 

Seeing his face on the screen was quite startling, he almost dropped the phone. He took a moment studying his image, holding the phone at various angles, but really it was no different than a mirror, a mirror that could record the things reflected in it, but still, a mirror. When he thought of it like that, it wasn't quite so alarming after all, and he quickly snapped a few photos of himself pulling various silly expressions.

 

After a little more playing about, he found the filters. The cat ears were his favourite, so he took a few photos with those too. They all looked silly, and there was no real purpose to them, but it was fun.

 

He laughed as he scrolled through the pictures, wishing he could keep some of them, but he couldn't do that or else Shiro would know he'd been snooping through his phone and playing about with it.

 

Lance had to delete the photos, but there was one flaw to his plan. He had no idea how, and all his playing about with the phone so far had not yielded the answer.

 

He was starting to panic.

 

Further frantic tapping on the screen only resulted in him taking several more blurry photos and almost uploading them to Shiro's Facebook page.

 

Lance locked the phone and dropped it on the bed. “I'll look at it later,” he told himself. Grabbing one of the bath bombs at random from the shopping bag he escaped to the bathroom. All he needed was some time to think it over, and then he would figure out how to delete those photos.

 

He wouldn't let the modern contraption beat him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Books covered every available inch of space on the table their laptops squeezed in amongst them somehow. Silence weight heavily in the air, making it thick. Allura was too tense and stressed to allow any music, and small talk was also out. The moment he'd arrived Allura had forbidden him from talking about anything that wasn't related to the project.

 

Shiro groaned under his breath after reading the same passage for the fifth time, trying to make sense of it. He needed to focus, but the empty silence and the difficulty of the material made it impossible. And he was worried about leaving Lance alone for too long. Maybe he should have texted Keith and asked him to go back to the apartment?

 

Why hadn't he done that?

 

Shiro cast a cautious sidelong look at Allura, but he doubted she'd let him borrow her phone for something she'd deem trivial. He lifted his head from the book, glancing at the clock at the corner of his laptop screen, and sighed. Only five minutes had passed since that last time he looked.

 

“Do you have somewhere better to be?” Allura sniped. She didn't look up from her notes, but the corner of her mouth creased into a deeper scowl.

 

"No," Shiro answered with a huff, ducking his head back into the book. “I'm just having trouble making sense of this chapter, that's all.”

 

“Hmm. Well, maybe it would make more sense if you gave it your full attention.”

 

“What's that supposed to mean?” Shiro slammed the book shut and turned to Allura with a stubborn glare.

 

Allura didn't answer right away. She finished what she was writing in her neat, careful handwriting, and Shiro was positive she was writing slower than usual on purpose. When she was done, she set the pen down delicately before turning to meet Shiro's glare with an icy stare.

 

“I practically had to beg you to meet me tonight to work on this project, and I had to readjust my schedule to suit you because of this new pet of yours. Since you've been here all you'eve done is stare at the same page and look at the clock every five minutes. You haven't got anything done.” She said coldly, her frustration palpable.

 

“Pet?” Shiro stared at her in disbelief. “Allura, he's not a pet, Lance needs my help. He's all alone.”

 

“And why is that your problem?” She demanded.

 

“What? You want me to kick him out and drop him off at the nearest homeless shelter or something?” Shiro growled his anger bubbling like lava in his chest. Allura could be sharp and cold, but she'd always been caring and compassionate at heart. He'd expected more from her.

 

“No of course not,” she huffed her expression twisting. “What I want is for you to work on this project with me. You have other responsibilities Shiro, and I expected you to balance your time appropriately, and not allow yourself to be taken by some pretty little thing.”

 

“I am balancing my time. I'm here, aren't I? And his name is Lance,” Shiro growled out, not liking the way Allura kept referring to Lance as if it were his fault.

 

“If you're here then act like it, do some work.” Allura retorted.

 

Shiro narrowed his eyes, glaring at her, and Allura glared right back.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The modern bath was a lot easier to fill than the tin baths that had to be filled with multiple jugfuls of water boiled on the stove he'd used back in his other life. This was much better, and the convenience of the taps allowed him to adjust the temperature of the water with easy, and with how quickly the bath filled he didn't need to worry about it getting cold.

 

It was amazing. Lance played around with the taps for a few moments, twisting them on and off before he remembered he needed to throw the bath bomb in the water. Impatiently he ripped open the paper bag and tossed it to the floor (he'd pick it up later), before throwing the colourful ball into the water.

 

The effect was magical. The ball fizzed and began to dissolve dying the water in a mix of pink and blues. Lance gasped, watching captivated as the colours spread through the water, twisting together in a marble effect. He dipped his fingers in the water, half expecting the colour to dye his skin, but when he looked at his fingers, there was only a faint sheen of glitter.

 

Bouncing on the balls os his feet, too excited to wait for the bath to finish filling, Lance stripped out of his clothes and slid into the warm water. It tingled and caressed his skin, the salts and perfumes enveloping him in its tender embrace, inviting him to sink deeper. He did, lowering himself in the bath until his chin touched the top of the water.

 

Perfect.

 

The click of the front door opening interrupted the tranquillity, followed by the sound of stomping footsteps that were not Shiro's. A yell announced that it was Keith. Lance sighed and shifted in the water, making himself more comfortable before he called back to say he was in the bathroom, and that Shiro was out. Keith grunted in reply, and Lance heard him stomp down the corridor and shut himself in his room, leaving Lance to enjoy his bath in peace.

 

He sighed softly, trailing his hands through the brightly coloured water. It felt so good, and Lance was so relaxed, lost in his own little world, that he didn't notice the prickling growing in his chest until the first stab of pain gripped his heart. He gasped and sank under the water.

 

Lance thrashed about trying to right himself, sending water sloshing out onto the floor. He broke the surface spluttering and coughing, his arms swinging blindly for something to hold onto. His fingers met the edge of the bath, and he grabbed on, hoisting himself up he shuddered as he held on desperately, trying not to let himself sink again.

 

Another stab of pain caused him to double over. He bit his lower lip and gripped the edge of the bath tighter his knuckles going white.

 

No. This wasn't right. This wasn't supposed to happen. Shiro and Allura were finally alone together, working on that project that Allura was so worried about. They finally had the chance to work through things together. If they were destined for each other, then they should be able to manage that much without the help of an arrow...shoulden't they?

 

Why were they fighting now?

 

A stronger wave of pain gripped his chest, and Lance cried out unable to hold it back any longer. His arms shook bearly able to hold himself up. He slouched over the edge of the bath, leaning over away from the water as much as he could.

 

He had to get out, he had to do something, but the pain froze him and held such a tight grip on his chest, his lungs, he struggled to breathe.

 

“Lance? You ok in there?” Keith's voice sounded suddenly by the bathroom door.

 

Lance held his breath for a moment, before slowly taking a deep breath attempting to steady himself. The rattle of his breathing seemed to echo impossibly loud, so loud Keith could probably hear it. "I'm fine," he lied, his voice trembling.

 

“You sure? You don't sound good."

 

Lance groaned and bit back another cry as another sharp stab pierced his chest and made him nauseous. It was getting worse, worse than that morning, and spots danced across his vision. He felt giddy and was pretty sure that he wouldn't have the strength to stand let along get out of the bath and walk to Shiro's room. But he had to try. He had to get Shiro's phone, call Allura and get them to stop fighting.

 

Taking another deep breath, Lance hoisted himself up as much as he could with his waning strength. He lifted one leg out followed slowly by the other kicking more water onto the floor in the process. He held on tight to the edge of the bath, using it to support himself as he tried to find his footing on shaky legs and a wet floor.

 

“Lance?” Keith rapped on the door.

 

“I'm fine!” Lance snapped, punctuated by another cry of pain. His hand slipped, as did his feet and he fell to the floor with a heavy thump.

 

“Lance, I'm coming in." Keith's tone left no room for argument. He tried the door and was relieved to find it wasn't locked. Throwing it open without further warning he froze when he saw Lance curled up on the floor, his knees pulled up his chest and his hands pressed over his heart.

 

Another attack?

 

“Shit,” Keith cursed. He grabbed a towel from the rail and threw it over Lance's naked body, tugging the edges to make sure it protected the other man's modesty as he crouched down on the floor next to him.

 

“Don't move. Just lie still for a moment,” Keith commanded gently. Tentatively he rested a hand on Lance's shoulder, partly to keep him still, even though Lance wasn't trying to get up, but also hoping that the touch would be somehow comforting.

 

Lance whimpered. He didn't have the strength to argue. If he opened his mouth again all he would be able to do was cry, he wouldn't be able to form any words. He flinched as another wave of pain crashed over him, and he pressed his lips together in a hard line, curling up tighter on himself. The pain was spreading; he could feel it in his back and spreading down his arms.

 

"Is it your chest again?" Keith asked, his voice spiking with alarm despite his attempt to stay calm.

 

Lance managed a weak nod. The small movement made his vision blur worse than ever.

 

The argument was getting worse. He couldn't stop them. There was nothing he could do. At this rate...

 

"I'll call Shiro." Keith didn't know what else to do. Calling an ambulance might have been the better idea but Keith was panicking, and he needed help. He pulled his phone out of his pockets and dialled Shiro's number with one hand, his other still resting on Lance's shoulder.

 

Keith's heart sank when he heard Shiro's phone ring in the next room.

 

“Damn. Why did he leave his phone here?” Keith growled.

 

“...with...Allura...” Lance managed to grind out between gritted teeth. He was trembling so much the towel slipped off.

 

Keith adjusted it quickly, making sure Lance was covered before he dialled Allura's number.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The shrill ring of the telephone broke across their argument. Allura stopped mid-sentence and glared at her phone, and for a moment Shiro thought she would start yelling at it too without answering. The name lit up on the screen stopped her tirade, however. Keith wasn't one for social calls, he usually only texted so when he called, it was usually something important.

 

She snatched up the phone and answered it. “Yes. What is it?” she asked waspishly, failing to mask her anger completely. She winced at her own words. It was not Keith she was angry at after all.

 

Keith didn't seem to notice.

 

“It's me, Keith. Is Shiro there? It's Lance….I don't know what to do,” Keith's voice shook. In the background, Allura could hear someone whimpering. Her throat tightened, her anger immediately evaporating.

 

Something was wrong.

 

“It's for you.” Her tone was even, but her hand tremble as she held the phone out towards Shiro.

 

Shiro scowled, his anger masked by confusion. He couldn't read anything from Allura's expression other than, suddenly, she looked apprehensive. He took the phone.

 

“Hello?”

 

He listened intently to every word Keith said, although the other man's voice was almost drowned out by the soft, barely audible whimpers Shiro could hear in the background. His grip on the phone tightened, matching the force that pressed around his heart.

 

“I'll be right there.” His tone was clipped. Shiro hung up and handed the phone back to Allura, his face pale. His gaze wandered around the room helplessly, his books and notes spread everywhere. It would take several minutes for him to gather everything and shove it back in his bag. Too long.

 

“Go,” Allura said, her tone gentler and kind. “I'll pack your stuff and bring it over tomorrow.

 

Shiro nodded mutely. He couldn't speak even if he wanted to. He jumped to his feet and grabbed his coat, stumbling towards the door. On his way out Shiro paused in the doorway, his back stiff and straight. He didn't turn around or look over his shoulder.

 

"Allura. I'm sorry." He didn't wait for her reply. Stepping outside Shiro closed the door behind him and broke into a run.

 

Allura stared at the closed door for a moment before letting out a long sigh. “Guess I better try and get some work done,” she muttered staring at the pile of scattered papers and books. She plucked Shiro's notes from the stack and started to flick through them.

 

Despite her resolve to get something done, she didn't get any further. She was too worried about Shiro and Lance.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Keith? Lance? Where are you?” Shiro yelled, bursting through the door he almost tripped over his own feet in his hurry to get to them.

 

“In here,” Keith called from Shiro's room, his voice sounded calmer now, less urgent, but Shiro's heart continued to pound.

 

After the phone call, Lance had gone oddly still. For a moment Keith feared he was unconscious or even dead, but then he'd heard the raspy sound of Lance's breathing, shallow and rattling but less of a struggle.

 

Keith spoke to him softly, trying to tempt a response from Lance but the other man hadn't said a word, even though his breathing was better he was still in a daze. He gave Lance a moment to gather his wits before urging the other to his feet, although in the end, Keith had to lean most of Lance's weight on him and drag him to Shiro's room. He dried Lance off as best he could before lying him down on Shiro's bed.

 

Keith perched on the edge of the bed now, watching over Lance. He seemed better, his breathing natural and even, but he continued to tremble no matter how tight Keith tucked the covers around him.

 

When Shiro barged into the room, almost falling over in his hurry, Keith was never more glad to see him.

 

"What happened?" Shiro demanded. He charged towards the bed, and Keith quickly stood up and move away, letting Shiro take his place to keep vigil over Lance.

 

“He was in the bath. I heard a noise and then found him on the floor. It looked like the same thing that happened this morning,” Keith explained as simply as possible, a lump forming in his throat at the memory, still so vivid in his mind.

 

Shiro nodded his thanks before sitting down as carefully as he could on the edge of the bed, mindful not to jostle the mattress and Lance in the process. Shiro gazed down at Lance his forehead creased with deeps line of worry. He brushed a hand across Lance's sweaty brow. Still so warm.

 

“I'll be in my room if you need me,” Keith said as he backed away towards the door, deciding it was best to leave the rest to Shiro. Besides, he needed a moment to himself to gather his thoughts after that.

 

“Thanks,” Shiro muttered distractedly, his full attention focused on Lance. Keith didn't blame him. He slipped soundlessly out of the room.

 

“Lance, hey Lance?” Shiro called softly, his fingertips tracing the curve of Lance's cheek.

 

Lance mumbled incoherently and curled up tighter on himself. He was still shaking, disturbing the blankets. Shiro adjusted them, pulling the blankets up over Lance's shoulders. His eyes still closed Lance shuffled towards him, pressing towards the warmth Shiro offered.

 

“Shiro?” Lance opened his eyes finally. They looked dull, his face drawn and pale.

 

“I thought you said this was nothing,” Shiro admonished gently. He cupped Lance's cheek with his hand and stroked his thumb against the clammy skin.

 

Lance groaned pitifully and tilted his head towards Shiro's gently, soothing hand.

 

“It is nothing,” he grumbled weakly.

 

“I don't believe you.” Shiro wasn't angry, but there was a stern tone to his voice. He was afraid, and he wouldn't be fooled so easily this time.

 

“Should I call a doctor?”

 

“No!” Lance snapped, his eyes widening in alarm. His arm shot out from the blankets and grabbed on to Shiro's wrist, holding on desperately, but his grip was so weak it would have done nothing to stop the other man. This was not something a doctor could fix. And what if a doctor checked him out and noticed something off? No, he couldn't risk it.

 

Shiro's eyes widened, Lance's vehement refusal taking him by surprise. “You know if you're worried about money or whatever we can work around that.”

 

Lance shook his head, the hand clasped around Shiro's wrist trembled. “No, that's not it. I'm fine really. This will pass. I just need to sleep.”

 

Lance did sound coherent, at least. His voice was weak but his words clear and he didn't seem to be in any pain, simply exhausted.

 

“Ok. Just this once,” Shiro agreed. Lance's grip on his wrist loosened, the tension across his shoulders unwinding.

 

“But if this happens again I am calling an ambulance,” Shiro warned. Lance flinched and looked up at him pitifully, but Shiro would not budge.

 

“I mean it. There could be something wrong if this keeps happening. At least get it checked out.”

 

Lance pouted but knew he was fighting a losing battle. For now, he had no choice but to agree.

 

“Ok, fine,” he muttered sulkily.

 

Shiro smiled and ran his fingers through Lance's slightly damp hair. It was all fluffed up from being dried so vigorously with a towel (by Keith). He'd have some impressive bedhead again the next morning.

 

Lance closed his eyes, letting out a content sigh as Shiro's strong fingers ran through his hair. “That's nice,” he sighed nuzzling his head into Shiro's hand.

 

“Go to sleep,” Shiro whispered.

 

“But, your bed,” Lance protested. He struggled to open his eyes and turn his head to look at Shiro. Lance was already so far gone there was no way he could get out of the bed, not that Shiro had any intention of sending him to the sofa. He kept stroking Lance's hair.

 

“I can sleep on the sofa again, don't worry.”

 

“But..” Lance frowned.

 

“You need the bed more,” Shiro insisted and was struck with such a sudden, powerful urge to kiss Lance's forehead that he had to pull his hand away lest he give in to temptation.

 

Lance thankfully didn't seem to notice and was asleep by the time Shiro got to his feet.

 

Bending over the bed, Shiro readjusted the blankets and made sure Lance was tucked in before he allowed his hand to wander back to Lance's cheek. Warm, but finally a little cooler.

 

It was strange. He'd only met Lance yesterday, and yet he was possessed with such a fierce desire to protect him, to keep him safe and be by his side. It was as if the moment he saw Lance, a switch was flipped and some unknown force drove him drove him towards the other man. A force Shiro was powerless to resist. His heart still ached in his chest from how fast it had been pounding early, and the fear that something terrible had happened.

 

Shiro thought back on the moment he first saw Lance beneath the tree, with that angelic glow all around him. He could see it so clearly, and vividly it seemed impossible that he could have imagined it. There was something strange, and special about the man in his bed. Did that have something to do with the pain Lance experience, and why he refused to see a doctor?

 

Lance was beautiful. Even without the angelic glow and flowing white robes he was bright, possessing a magnetic aura that drew in anyone who wandered too close. Was that the reason Shiro felt so driven to help him?

 

Shiro brushed Lance's hair back, tucking it behind his ear.

 

No, it was more than that. Just spending time with Lance today had been amazing. Shiro had fun; he couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so hard (it had been a tough semester). Shiro enjoyed every moment with the other man so much that he never wanted it to end. He'd never liked shopping or crowds much, but with Lance, he could have happily spent the entire day at the mall. It felt easy with Lance. It felt right.

 

Lance was still shaking ever so slightly in his sleep, so Shiro grabbed another blanket and draped it across him.

 

He kept watch over Lance for a few more minutes, but everything seemed fine now, so there was no reason for him to stay. He spent a few more moments working the ache out of his limbs, stretching his arms and his shoulders before he left the room, leaving the door ajar just in case Lance called for him.

 

He made for the kitchen.

 

“Is he ok?” Keith asked. He sat at the kitchen table a beer cradled loosely in his hands.

 

“Yeah, I think he'll be ok,” Shiro curled his fingers around the back of his neck and craned his head to the side.

 

“I'm sorry you had to deal with that. How are you? You looked pretty shaken,” Shiro asked, lowering himself slowly into one of the seats.

 

Keith grimaced. “Fine. You know I was just worried the random stranger you brought home was about to die in our bathroom, but I think I handled it rather well.”

 

“You did good. How about I cook something for dinner?” Shiro offered.

 

“How about you order take-out instead, whatever I want, your treat,” Keith countered.

 

Shiro grinned sheepishly and nodded. A meal cooked by him wasn't really adequate compensation for everything Keith had to deal with.

 

“Ok, deal.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's read so far. I've been ill the past few days so I hope that this chapter makes sense and I didn't make some horrible mistakes somewhere. Please do let me know if you notice anything. 
> 
> As always I love reading your comments, even if they're just keysmashes or screaming. Let me know that you like the fic <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to Enikawa_Moriko and SuccubustyKisses for betaing this chapter. You both helped make this chapter shine <3 
> 
> And another big thank you to everyone who's read so far, your lovely comments and kudos keep me going. 
> 
> This chapter is a lot of shance bonding, some fluff and of course a little bit of angst. It's too soon for a happy ending after all. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3

While Shiro had a restless, anxious night on the sofa, Lance appeared to sleep soundly. Too worried to sleep, Shiro rose several times through the night to check on the other man, poking his head into the room to listen to the soft, reassuring sounds of his breathing. But even that wasn't enough, and Shiro would pace outside the room for several minutes after, too agitated to stay still. It was only in the early hours of the morning, when the orange rays of dawn started to bleed through the gaps in the curtains, and there had been no change in Lance's breathing (except for the odd snort and mutter of words Shiro couldn't decipher) that Shiro finally crashed and fell into the dreamless slumber of pure exhaustion.

  


Lance woke early the next morning, refreshed and so well rested that the pain and everything else that happened the night before felt like a bad dream. Feeling pleasantly groggy, he dragged himself out of bed and lumbered through the silent apartment, doing his best to move as quietly as possible. He crept into the living room and over to the sofa, knowing Shiro would be there, and hoping he would find him asleep.

  


His wishes were answered. Shiro was sound asleep, sprawled out on the sofa in a way that looked incredibly uncomfortable, his large build struggling to fit in such a narrow space. He slept with a frown, and without a blanket.

  


Lance smiled sympathetically, a twinge of guilt stabbing his heart. His eyes lingering for a moment before he scuttled back to the bedroom to snatch one of the blankets Shiro had piled on top of him. Bundling it up in his arms Lance hurried back to the living room and carefully draped it over the sleeping man, making sure that it covered his feet before tucking it around the man's broad shoulders.

  


The moment the blanket settled around him Shiro shifted in his sleep, snuggling into its soft embrace, and Lance watched, holding his breath. For a moment he worried the addition had been too much and disturbed Shiro's much-needed rest, but the other man quickly settled, his expression softening. Lance could breathe again.

  


He let out a soft sigh and crouched down beside the sofa. Shiro looked more comfortable now, but he was still frowning in his sleep, a deep crease forming along his brow. “I'm sorry you have to sleep here. It looks so uncomfortable,” Lance whispered. Gently, he pressed his fingers against Shiro's forehead. Tracing the creases there he tried to smooth them away with a soft touch. Shiro's handsome face shouldn't be marred by early wrinkles, and especially not ones formed because of him.

  


Memories of Shiro caring for him last night floated up like the fragments of a happy dream. He remembered the care and attention, the concern and urgency in those steel eyes that looked only at him. He remembered a soft voice, and gentle hands adjusting the blankets and pillows, making sure he was comfortable and then strong, deft fingers carding through his hair, gently soothing him until he fell asleep.

  


Of course, he remembered that ultimatum too, which wasn't such a pleasant memory, and he knew there was no point in pretending to forget about it. Shiro, out of pure concern for his well-being, would hold him to it regardless. If it happened again, Shiro would take him to the hospital, and who knew what they’d find if he was checked out by a doctor.

  


Lance couldn't allow it.

  


So now he was working with a time limit. Well, it wasn't as if he had the luxury of taking his time in the first place. The pressure of his conscience weighing down on him, telling him he had to fix thing as soon as possible had been enough of a motivator, but now that pressure felt like a guillotine hanging over his head, one that could fall at any moment.

  


“I'll fix this soon, I promise. Then you can have your bed, and your life back.” Lance toyed with Shiro's hair, curling a long white strand around his finger before brushing the hair away from Shiro's face, so it didn't get in his eyes. He seemed to be resting easier now. The frown was gone, and a soft sigh of what almost sounded like Lance's name passed his lips.

  


Lance refused to allow himself to lean in closer and try and catch it. No, he wouldn't delude himself or allow any selfish whims to get in his way. Not wanting to tempt fate any longer and risk waking Shiro, Lance slowly got to his feet and tiptoed to the kitchen. He raided the cupboards and the fridge, searching for the appropriate ingredients for a decent breakfast.

  


After some rummaging, that took much longer than it should have because he was making extra effort to be quiet, Lance managed to find everything he needed. He was no 5-star chef by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, he wasn't even sure if his skills could be counted as decent considering he hadn't done this for a while and he would have to contend with modern appliances that he didn't quite know how to use. But Lance had a knack for figuring things out, and he'd found some eggs and bacon in the fridge. At the very least, he could manage to whip up a passable omelette and not burn the bacon.

  


* * *

 

  


Shiro woke to the comforting, homely sounds of movement in the kitchen combined with the smell of food that wasn't burning, which in their apartment was a rarity. Both he and Keith were terrible cooks, and could probably burn water if they were left to their own devices for too long.

  


When Keith did challenge the kitchen, there was usually far more cursing, clattering, and smoke. Always smoke. But the sounds coming from the kitchen now were peaceful and welcoming, and whatever was cooking smelled delicious. It made Shiro's mouth water.

  


He stretched and groaned when his muscles complained, loudly, over his choice of bed. Yeah ok, the sofa was not good for him. Maybe the floor would be a better option? Shiro opened his eyes and blinked at the blanket covering his chest. That wasn't there when he went to sleep. He lifted it by one corner and held it close to his face, squinting. It was one of his blankets, but he'd given Lance all of his blankets last night.

  


It took a moment for two and two to add up but when it did a dopey smile crossed Shiro's lips, and he let the blanket drop back into place. Lance must have put it there, which made his chest feel light and fill with warmth. He was tempted to stay on the sofa, wrapped in the blanket Lance had tucked around him. His smell lingered on it faintly, so it was almost as if he was actually being embraced by the mysterious man. But the noises and smells from the kitchen were too tempting. It wasn't Keith, of that he was sure, and if it wasn't Keith that left only one other possibility.

  


Well, unless Hunk had broken in to cook them a proper meal. Which wasn't unheard of, but they'd given their friend no cause to be concerned for their welfare lately, and it had been a good few weeks since they'd last set off the fire alarm.

  


Shiro rolled off the sofa, pulling the blanket around his shoulders, easily giving in to the urge to take it with him. He went to the kitchen and paused in the doorway.

  


Lance was humming to himself as he tended to the frying pan, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet to the tune, his movements small yet expressive. He wore one of Shiro's shirts and a pair of boxers, and nothing else. It reminded Shiro that in all the fun of their shopping trip yesterday. He'd forgotten pyjamas, but seeing Lance dressed in his clothes (loose fitting, the neck of his shirt almost slipping off Lance's shoulder) dancing around the kitchen in the early morning light, Shiro was in no hurry to rectify that problem.

  


The humming switched to singing, a low hum of words in Spanish that Lance sang under his breath, and even with his voice low, the words mumbled and jumbled together it was clear he had a beautiful singing voice. It was rich and melodic, with an energy that made Shiro want to sing along even though he didn't know the words.

  


Shiro crossed his arms lightly in front of his chest and leaned against the door frame, and he hummed along softly to the melody instead.

  


Lance was so engrossed in his task that he didn't notice the accompaniment, and as he tended to the bacon his singing grew in confidence, the words more energetic, echoing around the room making everything seem brighter. He stepped back from the stove, hips swaying, and when he reached a particularly lively part of the chorus he spun around, arms thrown wide, a spatula held in one hand.

  


The enthusiastic singing cut off abruptly the moment he caught sight of Shiro. Lance stumbled and tried to stop himself mid spin, grabbing on to the counter he dropped the spatula letting it clatter to the floor. “Shiro! How long have you been standing there?” he spluttered, his voice going a few octaves higher.

  


Shiro stopped humming and let out a small chuckle, shooting Lance a rueful smile. He could still hear the other's  singing ringing sweetly in his ears, and he made a mental note to ask what the song was called later. Maybe, if he was lucky, Lance would even sing it again.

  


“Not long,” Shiro answered. He pushed away from the door frame and stepped into the kitchen, moving towards Lance he peeked over his shoulder at the stove to see what was cooking.

  


“You have a beautiful voice,” he added, his eyes fixed on the pan of sizzling bacon. He could see Lance from the corner of his eye though, and he saw the way the other man ducked his head and shuffled his feet.

  


“It's nothing special,” Lance muttered. Crouching down Lance snatched the spatula off the floor and hurried over to the sink to give it a quick wash before he came back to the stove, nudging Shiro out of the way with his elbow. “Take a seat. Breakfast is almost ready.”

  


Shiro did as he was told, happy to watch Lance as he worked, and even though he wasn't singing any more, there was still a bounce to his step that Shiro found adorable. Suddenly he wanted to get up and join Lance, whisk the other up into his arms and dance around the kitchen with him.

  


The sound of a plate being set down on the table shattered his daydream. “Bon appetit!” Lance announced, stepping back with a little flourish.

  


“Thanks. It looks great!” Shiro praised the food enthusiastically. It was a simple omelette with a side of bacon, but it was cooked perfectly without a hint of the black, burnt crusty bits that Shiro was used to taking with his meal.

  


Lance grinned, his smile a little shy and he quickly turned back to the stove to load up another plate.

  


“I smell food.” Keith voice, thick with sleep joined them. He shuffled towards the table his eyes still half closed.

  


“I made some for you too,” Lance chirped. He quickly finished dishing up the second plate, and Shiro watched him quickly add another rasher of bacon before he turned around and skipped over to the table, setting the plate down in front of Keith.

  


Keith stared at the plate, his eyes slowly opening wider. He blinked once. “You didn't burn it.”

  


“Uh...no?” Lance said uncertainly, wondering if he perhaps should have.

  


“Hmm. Good,” Keith nodded, grabbed a fork and shovelled a heap of omelette into his mouth. “This is amazing," he groaned before digging into his breakfast with the rabid enthusiasm of someone who hadn't eaten for days.

  


“It’s just eggs and bacon.” Lance dismissed the compliment, but there was a pleased flush to his cheeks he couldn't hide.

  


“The best eggs and bacon I've ever had,” Shiro added emphatically. Lance flushed darker and turned back to the counter to load up another plate with what was left.

  


When Lance turned back to the table the flush in his cheeks was gone. He set his plate down on the table, but instead of taking his seat, Lance moved away and walked over to the sink.

  


“What are you doing?” Shiro asked, watching as Lance dumped dirty pans and utensils into the sink before turning the taps on, letting the sink fill.

  


“Mmm, I’m washing up,” Lance answered distractedly, his attention focused on the sink.

  


Shiro quickly got to his feet and was behind Lance in an instant. Without a word he reached around him and turned the tap off. From this position, it would be so easy to wrap his arms around Lance's waist, or put his hands on Lance's hips and pull him against his chest, but Shiro resisted the temptation. “Oh no, you're not. You should eat first,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He grabbed Lance by the shoulders, turned him around and marched him back to the table.

  


Lance could feel Shiro, warm and solid behind him even though the other man wasn't pressed against him. He tensed, but didn't dig his heels in and allowed himself to be guided back to the table with little resistance, his heart hammering in his chest. Shiro's hands were big, warm and firm on his shoulders. “But I need to tidy up after myself, it's the least I can do,” he protested weakly.

  


“You've made breakfast, you don't need to worry about the washing up,” Shiro insisted pushing Lance down into the chair.

  


Lance huffed and pouted, squirming in his seat for a moment before settling down. “Ok, fine.”

  


Shiro smirked proudly and went back to his seat.

  


Keith watched them with a knowing grin and caught Shiro's eyes with a meaningful look. _'_ _Gay,'_ he mouthed with a snicker that only Shiro caught.

  


Shiro coughed and almost choked on his food.

  


“Shiro? Are you ok?” Lance asked, immediately leaning towards the other man. His hand went to Shiro's back to rest between his shoulder blades, long fingers rubbing gently.

  


Jerking under the touch, Shiro coughed harder and bent forward. “I'm fine. Just went down the wrong way.” He smacked himself firmly in the chest a few times, regaining control of his bodily functions before shooting Lance a reassuring smile and turning back to his meal.

  


“Ok, but you should probably eat a bit slower,” Lance chided in a motherly tone.

  


As he pulled his hand away the tips of Lance's fingers trailed across Shiro's shoulder, so light it must have been unintentional. Shiro bit back another cough and quickly scarfed down some bacon.

  


Keith sniggered. He'd seen it all and was not going to let Shiro live it down.

  


Resisting the urge to slide under the kitchen table, and stay there, quite possibly for the rest of his life, Shiro finished off his breakfast as quickly as he could. Jumping to his feet the moment he was finished he took his plate over to the sink, still chewing the last mouthful. “I'm gonna wash the dishes,” he announced, keeping his back turned to the other two. He dropped his plate into the sink and turned the taps on.

  


“Wait no, I'm supposed to clean up!” Lance argued. He quickly shovelled what was left on his plate into his mouth and with his cheeks bulging, he grabbed his plate and ran over to the sink after Shiro.

  


Still, only halfway through his breakfast (he was taking his time to savour food that wasn't burnt), Keith stared at them for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “Idiots,” he muttered to himself, a smile tugging at his lips. It was good to see Shiro happy, and he couldn't wait to tell their friends what a disaster the other man was.

  


“You cooked everything, so someone else should clean. It's only fair,” Shiro retaliated.

  


“But you guys are letting me stay here for nothing. I need to pull my weight. Let me wash up.” Lance stood beside Shiro, shoving him with his shoulder trying to push the other man away from the sink. Shiro, a solid mass of muscle, didn’t even budge.

  


“Cooking breakfast is plenty. You don't have to do everything.”

  


“Or, you know, one of you could wash, and one of you could dry,” Keith interrupted before the argument could drag out any longer.

  


Lance stopped pushing against Shiro, his body slumping. “Oh. I guess we could do that,” he accepted reluctantly.

  


“Makes sense,” Shiro acknowledged abruptly, stepping to the side to grab a towel, moving away from Lance who felt so temptingly warm against him. “You dry,” he added quickly, tossing the towel to Lance.

  


With a squawk of indignation, Lance fumbled with the towel but managed to catch it without dropping it. He scowled and looked like he wanted to complain, but he decided against it. When it came to a battle of wills, it looked like he was always going to lose to Shiro. “Fine,” he snapped the towel and whipped it against Shiro's hip. Shiro retaliated by dipping his hand in the water, flicking a few droplets at Lance. The pair laughed and finally set about washing and drying the dishes, which involved a lot of 'accidental' brushing of fingers and both of them pretending not to notice.

  


Keith rolled his eyes and tried not to groan. The cute display was starting to ruin the taste of his breakfast, leaving a sickeningly sweet after-taste. Thankfully, he was almost finished. So, he devoured the rest and carried his plate over to the sink, pushing between them for a moment to drop it in with the rest of the dishes needing to be washed. “Thanks for breakfast, Lance. It was really good,” he said, pretending not to notice how flushed both men were, and how they were too preoccupied avoiding each other's eye to notice the other.

  


Keith stepped back, letting them get back to work. The moment he was gone they moved towards each other, completely oblivious. _'Hopeless_ ,' Keith thought to himself. “I have classes today then I'm going to meet up with Pidge. What are you guys up to?” he said instead.

  


“I don't have any classes today, so I'll stay with Lance,” Shiro answered, turning to shoot Lance a quick smile. “Unless you'd rather hang out with Keith and the others?”

  


“Nah, you're the cool one. I'll stick with you,” Lance laughed. He made it sound like a jibe, but his smile was soft and shy.

  


Keith pulled a face behind their backs. “Whatever. See you later,” he called as he ducked back in his room to get ready for the day.

  


Lance knew that, ideally, Shiro should be spending his time with Allura. He could have even suggested that they all hang out together, Allura included. Then all he had to do was find a way to get the two of them to talk and hope for the best. But that wouldn't be enough, and it wasn't just the selfish part of Lance that wanted to keep Shiro to himself that told him that. Last night was proof that whatever should be between them had snapped along with the arrow, and they needed more of a push than just getting together and talking. If he forced them together and they argued, he would have another attack. Then it would be game over and he might never be able to repair what he'd broken. He needed to buy a little time, enough to come up with a plan, so keeping Shiro to himself just for one day wouldn't hurt. Right?

  


“So what do you want to do today?” Lance asked, pushing down his growing feelings of guilt. He would use the time wisely, maybe try to discreetly bring Allura into the conversation and find out more about their relationship.

  


“Hmm. I was thinking we could go buy a load of snacks and watch some movies? Or I can show you around some more if you'd rather go out?” Shiro suggested.

  


Lance quickly shook his head. “No, a movie or two sounds great!” He quickly finished drying off the last few things, putting them back where he found them. “I'm going to go freshen up then, unless you want to use the bathroom first?” he said when he was done.

  


“No it's ok, you go.”

  


Lance gave a small nod and left the kitchen.

  


When he was sure Lance was far enough away, Shiro let out a long breath and grabbed the edge of the counter, his shoulders slumping. “I need help,” he groaned before covering his face with his hands. He didn't need Keith's judgemental stare to let him know he was behaving like a complete idiot.

  


He hoped he could make it through the day without making an even bigger fool of himself.

  


* * *

 

 

“First of all, the most crucial ingredient for a great movie night is a good supply of snacks,” Shiro said authoritatively as they walked along the quiet street, the crisp chill in the air making their breath fog.

  


Lance looked up at him attentively, shoulders back, back straight, and a firm set to his jaw, he hung on Shiro's every word. It was cute how serious he took everything as if it was all so new and wonderful to him.

  


“What snacks do you recommend?” Lance asked.

  


Right then Shiro could have said anything, and Lance would probably believe him, not only about the snacks but how to eat them, how they should sit to watch the movie… but he would not abuse his power. “Well, popcorn is essential, and chips too, of course. We can get some chocolate and candy as well for something sweet, and order pizza if we get hungry. And to drink either soda or beer, or even both if you want. We could start with soda then have a few beers when it gets later?” Shiro rattled off a whole list of suggestions, and really, it would probably be a bit much to get everything, especially if it was just the two of them, but Lance's eyes shone with such enthusiasm that Shiro knew he would get all of that and more if he asked for it.

  


“Let's just see what takes our fancy,” Shiro grinned, coming to a stop outside the local convenience store. He held the door open for Lance, indicating for the other man to go first with a sweep of his arm before following him into the store.

  


Shiro grabbed a basket while Lance immediately went to inspect the closest shelf, leaning in close with his eyes narrowed. The contents were rather boring, however (an uninspiring display of toiletries and other basic household goods) and didn't hold Lance's attention for long. He moved on to the next shelf (bread and cereal) and quickly went past that too until he was finally led to the bright, enticing candy section. He came to a stop.

  


“Pick whatever you like,” Shiro indicated the shelves with a swing of the basket, and that was all the encouragement Lance needed to pounce on the display. He inspected every item in turn, picking them up to study the packaging before returning it, moving methodically from one end of the display to the other. Despite his excitement and apparent curiosity, he selected only a few items to drop into the basket.

  


“What's your favourite candy?” Lance asked conversationally. Coming to the end of the display he lingered for a moment, eyes lazily scanning the shelf in case he'd missed something. Guilt slowly began to nibble away at him again, not only because Shiro was letting him pick all the candy, without grabbing anything for himself, but because he knew none of this would help him get Shiro and Allura back on track.

  


“Oh, I'm not really a huge fan of candy, don't worry,” Shiro answered with a smile that suggested he was being purposefully evasive.

  


Lance frowned. Ok then, maybe a different tact. “What about Keith, Allura, and the others? We have so much we could probably host another movie night with everyone.”

  


If Shiro noticed anything unusual about Lance mentioning Allura, as well as Keith by name, he didn't show it. “Oh don't worry about them. If we do have any leftovers, they'll eat whatever we put in front of them. We're all desperate college students after all.” Shiro laughed, and although Lance didn't get the joke, he laughed too.

  


They moved away from the candy, ambling slowly towards an eye catching display of chips. “So, what about chips? What flavours do you like?” Shiro asked.

  


With Shiro letting him make all the choices Lance knew he wasn't going to get any valuable information out of the other man. Maybe he would have more luck during the movie. He studied the chips with equal intensity, grabbing a few that looked interesting, and some that he thought Shiro might like too, dropping them all in the basket.

  


The choice of popcorn was straightforward, Shiro grabbed a large bag of salted, sweet, and even a bag of toffee flavour. Finally, they moved on to the drinks, and again Shiro only gave a nonchalant shrug when it came to what he wanted, although he did grab two six-packs of beer while Lance ran up and down the row of fridges, grabbing a couple of bottles of soda, making sure he picked out a good variety, and they left the store with bulging shopping bags full of more junk food then they could possibly eat between them in one night.

  


With snacks purchased they stopped off at the dry cleaners on the way back to drop off Allura's coat. Lance had noticed it when he was getting ready after breakfast, looking somewhat out of place on the back of Shiro's bedroom door. After hearing the story of how it got there (which wasn't the intimate one Lance had hoped for), they both agreed that the decent thing to do would be to have it dry cleaned before returning it, even though it wasn't dirty.

  


“You know, I am going to find a way to pay you back for all this. I hope you're keeping tab,” Lance said vehemently, although he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to return the money Shiro spent on him. Surely returning true love to him would be worth more than any amount of money.

  


Smiling, Shiro gave a non-committal hum. He hadn't been keeping track so far and wasn't about to start now, but he didn't bother to say that.

  


* * *

 

  


With Keith out for the day they had the apartment all to themselves, which gave them free reign to take up the couch and spread the mountain of snacks out on the table in front of them.

  


The food set up, all within grabbing distance of the couch, Lance made himself comfortable. Curled up in one corner with his legs tucked under him. He watched Shiro as the other man rummaged through the DVD collection beside the TV.

  


“So, what kind of movies do you like?” Shiro asked, shuffling through the messy stack, trying to make them look a bit more organised. His and Keith's movie collection mostly consisted of action and sci-fi with a couple of horror movies thrown in, which didn't give them much of a choice. But Shiro had a not so secret stash of Disney movies and romcoms in his room, and he knew Keith had some western movies he could raid if any of those were more Lance's thing.

  


“Oh I don't mind, anything's good,” Lance shrugged, choosing to be purposefully evasive now (Shiro wasn't the only one who could play that game). If he could at least get Shiro to pick a movie, then it might tell him a little something more about the man. Besides, he knew nothing about movies, having died even before the advent of silent films. Like everything else, he'd seen things in small snapshots, from silent, jerky black and white pictures to inspiring, highly detailed colour images. The very first time he'd returned to the human world, finding himself firing an arrow in a dark theatre, and seen the silent black and white images dancing in front of him, he'd been amazed. Since then he'd frequently found himself firing arrows at couples sat together in the dark, pretending they were paying attention to the screen rather than sneaking glances at each other. He enjoyed those jobs, catching a glimpse of whatever movie was playing, but he'd never been able to watch one from start to finish.

  


What kind of movie did he like? Truthfully, Lance didn't know.

  


Shiro glanced over his shoulder at him and scowled, knowing that he was doing it on purpose, but after pulling the same trick in the convenience store, Shiro couldn't really complain. “Ok then, how about The human centipede?” He suggested, deadpan. He could still make it difficult.

  


“Sure, what's it about?” Lance didn't even flinch.

  


Shiro stared at him for a moment, not sure if the other man was a good actor of if he simply hadn't so much as heard about the infamous film.

  


“You know what, nevermind.” Shiro quickly turned back to the DVD collection, but of course, Lance wouldn't let it slide.

  


“No, come on tell me. Why would you suggest it otherwise?”

  


“It was a joke, sorry. You really don't want to watch it, trust me. We don't even have it.”

  


“But why? What's it about?” Lance whined, insistent.

  


Shiro groaned. Well, he had brought this one himself.

  


“That's _disgusting_ ,” Lance retorted after Shiro gave him a brief summary of what he knew about the film. Looking slightly pale, Lance reached for one of the bowls of popcorn, carefully picked up a kernel between his thumb and fore finger, and threw it at Shiro. It sailed through the air and hit him right in the middle of the forehead - a feat Shiro found quite impressive despite being on the receiving end of the attack.

  


“Yeah, yeah. I'll pick the movie, and nothing gross, promise,” he chuckled sheepishly and decided to lay off the teasing. He grabbed one at random, going for an action movie. As much as he was tempted to pick a horror on the off chance Lance would get scared and cling to him, he'd promised 'nothing gross.' Shiro just hoped Lance didn't hate explosions and hectic car chases.

  


He set the film up and turned to the sofa, sitting in the middle, as near to Lance as he dared without making it too obvious that he was trying to get close to him.

  


The film started with the usual immediate amount of carnage and destruction for its genre. Lance leaned forward his eyes almost bulging out of his head, glued to the screen. “Wow it looks so real,” he gasped under his breath.

  


Shiro smiled, warmth blooming in his chest at Lance's open, naive wonder at the (in Shiro's opinion) rather mediocre special effects. “Popcorn?” he offered, grabbing one of the large bowls from the table, he held it on his lap and tilted it towards Lance.

  


Barely turning away from the screen Lance reached over, and he had to lean just a little closer before he could grab a handful of popcorn. He glanced away for only a moment to shoot Shiro a quick, grateful smile before turning his attention back to the film, shoving the entire handful into his mouth.

  


Shiro hid his laughter by grabbing a handful of popcorn too, and from there it was easy to shuffle just that little bit closer to Lance on the pretence of sharing the bowl with him.

  


* * *

 

  


“So how long have you known Keith and everyone else?” Lance asked absently as he shuffled through the selection of DVDs Shiro had passed to him, giving him no option but to choose the next film.

  


“I've known Keith for a long time, we grew up together. I met Matt and Pidge in high school. Pidge is so smart she skipped a few grades, so she was only a year behind us, and I met Allura and Hunk here in my first year.”

  


Lance hummed thoughtfully and pretended to study the back of one of the DVDs closely. So Shiro and Allura hadn't known each other for very long. That would make things more difficult. Scowling, he chewed his bottom lip. He needed more information. “What kind of movies do you usually watch together? Say, with Allura?” he asked, attempting to sound indifferent as if he'd picked her name at random.

  


Shiro's heart sank hearing Lance bring up Allura's name again. Earlier in the convenience store could have easily been a coincidence, but now, with Lance bringing her name up for the second time it felt far too deliberate. And of course, Lance would ask about her. Shiro had pretended not to notice the way he'd flirted with her when they first met, hoping that it was just a part of Lance's charming personality.

  


Sulking he shoved another handful of popcorn into his mouth, swallowing it before answering. “Her favourite is superhero movies. She's not a big fan of horror though, mostly because she gets frustrated at how dumb the people act, so she spends the entire time shouting at the screen,” Shiro answered honestly. As disappointed as he was he wasn't going to sabotage Lance's chances.

  


Better. But it still didn't really help him, he doubted getting the two of them to watch a film together would fix things. “Well since Allura’s not here let's give this a go,” Lane suggested with an impish grin, holding up one of Keith's horror movies.

  


Shiro’s heart skipped with hope. “Are you sure? It's not as gross as the human centipede, but there will be some blood and guts,” he warned.

  


“I can take it,” Lance puffed, full of confidence. He threw the DVD case at Shiro.

  


* * *

 

  


“Ew! This is horrible. Do people really watch stuff for fun?” Lance cringed and tucked his head against Shiro's chest hiding from a particularly gory scene.

  


Shiro wasn't afraid of horror films, nor did he particularly like them, but right now they were his favourite. He couldn't believe that not only had it worked, but it had turned out better than he'd even hoped. After the first grizzly death, Lance had grabbed onto his arm, clinging to it with a vice-like grip. The second death had him slipping under Shiro's arm and curling against him, and from there Lance had watched the movie from the safety of Shiro's chest, peeking at the screen through his fingers.

  


“We can turn it off it you want,” Shiro suggested, squeezing Lance's shoulders comfortingly, his arm looped around Lance as if it belonged there. Despite the offer he really hoped the other man would want to watch the rest of the movie. Selfishly, Shiro didn't want to let go. He held Lance tighter, holding him against his chest.

  


“No. It's fine, I want to see how this ends for myself,” Lance said stubbornly, turning to face the screen with morbid fascination.

  


Shiro wrapped his other arm around Lance, caging him in the safety of his embrace. Unsettled by the movie, Lance hardly seemed to notice, and unconsciously pressed closer, curling up against Shiro's side.

  


* * *

 

  


“Can we watch something a bit lighter next?” Lance asked shakily when the movie finally finished. He pulled away from Shiro with a sheepish apology. His hand lingering against the other man's arm as if he wanted to hold on again, but now he was too self-conscious.

  


“Sure. How about a comedy?” Shiro let his arms drop away from Lance, resisting the urge to draw him back into his arms. Now that the movie was over, he really had no excuse.

  


Lane nodded enthusiastically, brightening. His hand fell away from Shiro's arm, and he settled back onto the sofa, sitting normally, but still close enough to the other man that their thighs brushed together.

  


“We should order some pizza too,” Shiro said thickly. “We can’t just fill up on snacks for lunch.”

  


“Sounds good.”

  


And Shiro had to move away then, as much as he wanted to stay next to the other man. He moved to the pile of DVDs first, picking out a few comedies he handed them to Lance to browse while he went in search of a pizza menu.

  


Talk turned to food, and after settling on their pizza order, Lance kept the conversation going, asking Shiro what other foods he liked, then in a roundabout way asking about all of Shiro's friends too, including Allura. Again Shiro answered truthfully, despite the bitter taste of dismay on his tongue.

  


Frustratingly for Lance, it seemed Allura, and Shiro's tastes in food didn't match up either, so trying to fix things with a cliché romantic meal was a no go. However, he did discover that Shiro liked garlic in his food, which just so happened to be one of Lance's favourite ingredients too.

  


As the conversation tapered off, Shiro gave Lance a gentle nudge to pick a movie while he ordered the pizza. When he hung up the phone, Lance held out his choice, and Shiro immediately went to pop it into the DVD player and start it up.

  


Shiro returned to his spot on the sofa, and Lance sat beside him, thigh, arm and shoulder pressed flush against Shiro's side, staying close even though it wasn't a scary movie, and Shiro’s emotions see-sawed all over again.

  


* * *

 

  


The pizza arrived, and Lance had to move away from Shiro to eat, or else risk a clashing of elbows. They ate pizza, drank beer, and fought over the last piece of garlic bread. A fight that involved Shiro insisting Lance take the last piece, and Lance ripping it in half, insisting they share.

  


They talked through most of the movie, enjoying each others company more than whatever was happening on screen. The conversation flowed naturally, and Shiro talked about himself, and his friends, including Allura without paying attention to how often her name came up.

  


Lance shared little about himself, and although Shiro asked him about many things, Lance had a talent for evading the question and changing the subject without it seeming odd. It was only when Shiro paused for a moment that he realised he hadn't learned anything new about Lance throughout the entire conversation, but he didn't push it, sensing that Lance didn't want to talk about himself.

  


Surprisingly, they managed to polish off all of the pizza between them, and when the movie finished Shiro popped in another comedy. They hadn't really paid attention to the first one, but from the parts they had seen, Lance seemed to have enjoyed it.

  


The movie was one of Shiro's favourites, and he was glad to see they shared a similar sense of humour, laughing at the same jokes and groaning in unison at the worst. They drank more, switching between beer and soda, ate more of the snacks, and the time flew by.

  


* * *

 

  


“Ok, one more movie then bed,” Shiro announced, stretching with a yawn that made his jaw click. It was getting late, not quite late enough to call it a day just yet, but it was close. There was no sign of Keith coming back which suggested either he was stuck in the middle of an intense study session or he was giving Shiro time alone with Lance.

  


“But I'm not tired,” Lance whined, slumped against Shiro, his head on the other man's shoulder and eyes half closed. He curled up closer and threw and arm across Shiro's waist.

  


Shiro wasn't sure if he was drunk or just half asleep, but he wasn't going to complain about Lance's clinginess. “I'll pick something good,” he promised, ignoring Lance's comment. Reluctantly he extracted himself from the sofa, and a grumbling Lance and hurried to his room to grab one of the movies stashed there. They'd drunk enough beer and seen enough bad movies that Shiro no longer worried about picking something embarrassing. Besides, he had a feeling Lance would like this one.

  


“Are you ready for Enchanted?” Shiro dashed back to the living room the DVD held out proudly before him.

  


“Whazzat?” Lance mumbled sleepily, eyes cracking open. He'd flopped down on the sofa to lie flat out across it, long gangly limbs taking up all the available space.

  


“You'll see,” Shiro answered cryptically, going to set the DVD player up with a little hum and a spring in his step.

  


“It better not be the human centipede,” Lance grumbled.

  


“It's not, I promise,” Shiro laughed. He returned to the sofa and paused. “Where am I supposed to sit?”

  


Eye closed Lance groaned and made no effort to move.

  


“I thought you weren't tired.”

  


“I'm not. I'm just resting,” Lance said defiantly, his eyes snapping open. He still made no effort to move.

  


“Oh, ok then, guess I'll just sit here.” Slowly Shiro turned his back to the couch and lowered himself down hovering over Lance legs threatening to sit on them.

  


Lance squawked indignantly and pulled his legs out of the way, glaring at Shiro, who smiled back innocently. With a huff, Lance rolled his eyes and dropped his legs across Shiro's lap once he'd sat down.

  


Shiro didn't complain.

  


The movie began, and Lance was surprised to see it was animated, something they hadn't watched so far. It was rather childish and silly, and he couldn't figure out why Shiro had picked it, but it was a nice, simple story that required little of his attention. He quietly settled down to watch it.

  


As the film went on, and it suddenly changed to live action with Giselle finding herself out of place in the real world Lance felt a pang of empathy. It was similar, in a way, to his situation. Although he wasn't a Princess from a fairy tale world who believed in true love, he was an invader in a place he did not belong, unintentionally coming between two people who were meant to be together, and imposing on a kind man whose life he was slowly ruining.

  


Pulling his legs off Shiro's lap, Lance tucked them under himself and sat up, swaying to the side to slump against the other man. Wordlessly, Shiro stretched his arm across the back of the sofa, curled ever so slightly around Lance's shoulders, and although the lesson on the screen told him he shouldn't be enjoying this, Lance huddled closer.

  


He felt the first prickle of tears during the musical number in the park but did his best to ignore them by singing along under his breath. At some point, Shiro's hand fell on his shoulder. His heart clenched as he watched Giselle try to make things right between Robert and Nancy, only to make things worse, and a prickle of doubt grew in his mind. What if he couldn't mend things between Allura and Shiro? What if he'd ruined things beyond all repair?

  


When the film reached its climax, Robert chose Giselle, and everyone got their happy ending Lance allowed the tears to fall. For a moment he allowed himself to dream that maybe it was possible that Shiro and Allura didn't have to get together, and they could all still be happy, even him. Lance’s heart burned with envy. It was impossible.

  


“Are you crying,” Shiro asked, his arm tightened around Lance, pulling him against his chest.

  


Lance sniffled and pressed his face into Shiro's chest. “Of course not, don't be silly.”

  


His voice was muffled, and there were very clearly some damp patches growing on his shirt, but Shiro kept quiet and bowed his head, his cheek resting on top of Lance's head.

  


After several moments of uncontrollable self-pity, Lance managed to gain control of his tears, and his jealousy. He pulled away from Shiro, breaking out of the man's embrace, and flopped down on the sofa again. “I'm going to sleep now. Good night,” he announced before curling up into a tight ball.

  


“You should go to bed if you want to sleep,” Shiro chided, poking Lance in the side.

  


Lance twitched and attempted to curl up tighter, turning away from Shiro as much as the sofa would allow. “Nope, I'm staying here. You use the bed.” Stretching one leg out Lance shoved Shiro with his foot, trying to push him off the couch.

  


“Nuh-uh, I don't think so.” Shiro grinned deviously, looming over Lance his hands poised in warning. There was no escape. His fingers descended quickly, and he attacked Lance, tickling every part of his body he could reach.

  


Lance shrieked and thrashed, flailing his arms in an attempt to fight Shiro off, but the attack was a merciless one, and once his target was weakened Shiro grabbed Lance around the waist, hoisted him over his shoulder, and carried him towards the bedroom.

  


“No! Put me down!” Lance yelped, beating his first against Shiro's back with little effect. When that didn't work, Lance slumped over Shiro's shoulder, a dead weight, but even that didn't slow the other man down.

  


Shiro laughed and jerked his shoulder, making Lance bounce as if to prove just how light he was.

  


Lance muttered a curse under his breath that was cut off by a scream as Shiro suddenly threw him onto the bed. Before he could recover his senses and run back to the sofa, Shiro perched on the edge of the bed, leaning over Lance his hands darted out again for a second attack.

  


“Let. Me. Up,” Lance gasped between giggles.

  


“Nooooo,” Shiro drew out the word childishly and ticked him again. “You have to go to bed now, should I tuck you in?” He punctuated the question with more tickling. “Or sing you a lullaby?” And he ticked Lance again.

  


Breathless with laughter Lance curled up and tried to roll away, but where ever he went Shiro followed. “Stop. It,” he gasped. In desperation Lance reached out, aiming to grab Shiro, to do anything to stop him. He'd meant to grab the man's shoulders, push him away, but Lance's hands found Shiro's cheeks instead, his traitorous fingers curling softly around the other man's jaw.

  


The tickling stopped abruptly, and Shiro was suddenly acutely aware of just how close they were, and just how gentle Lance's touch was. His hands were warm, inviting, and Shiro wanted nothing more than to lean into those delicate fingers but he was frozen by intense blue eyes.

  


Face flushed and chest heaving, Lance gazed up at Shiro, his mind blank. Something niggled at the back of his mind, telling him this wasn't right. But then, why did falling into Shiro's midnight eyes feel like home? He blinked slowly, long dark lashes fluttering, as his fingers danced against Shiro's cheeks, ghosting across his skin and into his hair. They wanted to curl around Shiro's head, waned to draw him closer.

  


And then Lance felt a twinge. His hands dropped from Shiro's head and landed with a soft thump on the bed. “Sorry, I'll go to sleep now,” he said briskly before rolling onto his side and burying his face into the pillow.

  


Shiro felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him, while at the same time his heart thudded back to life. He felt dizzy, so lost in the moment that he wasn't even sure if there had even been a moment between them or if it had all been in his head. Lance turning away from him suggested the latter. “Ok, good night,” he whispered before moving from the bed. Even if there had been a fleeting moment, he wouldn't press Lance or take advantage of him. If anything it was probably the alcohol. Even though neither of them had really drunk enough to be drunk, Shiro blamed the beer anyway.

  


He pushed himself off the bed and stumbled back to the living room. Flopping down on the couch Shiro didn't bother to brush off the crumbs or make any attempt to tidy up. It didn't matter, the couch would be uncomfortable regardless.

  


When Lance snuck out of the room a few minutes later to go to the bathroom, Shiro pretended to be asleep. He kept up the farce even when he heard Lance pause in the hallway, and he heard the soft tread of Lance's bare feet draw closer before they stopped abruptly and left.

  


Was it really his imagination or was there the faintest hope of something between them? The question haunted Shiro's dreams.

  


* * *

 

  


Lance was the first to wake the next morning, and again Shiro woke to the delicious smell of home cooking. He blinked sleep from his eyes, having no memory of closing them and falling asleep, but at the very least he was pretty sure he hadn't seen the dawn this time, so he counted it as a good night’s rest.

  


With a groan he stretched, his back and joints cracking in protest at having spent another night on the couch. Grumbling he rolled over and pressed his face against the cushions, hiding from the too-cheerful daylight. He didn't want to get up, not yet. Despite the ache in his body, he lay there listening to the sounds of Lance humming and moving about the kitchen. Shiro didn't want to get up and have it all come to an end.

  


The memory of last night hadn't left him, it lingered in his dreams and came back to him now with vivid clarity. It was something he wouldn't be able to forget. There was no getting rid of the image of those intense blue eyes, or the sensation of long, slender fingers trembling against the back of his head drawing him closer...

  


Would Lance be angry? Or would he pretend that nothing had happened last night and not mention it? Shiro wasn't sure which was worse, and he didn't want to find out. Sucking in a deep breath, Shiro let it out with a soft sigh. He wanted to go back to sleep, back to his dreams where he could discover the taste of Lance's lips.

  


Humming turned to singing and from what Shiro could hear he was trying to sing 'happy working song.' Trying being the operative word. He couldn't remember the words and stumbled over the lyrics until he quickly gave up and started making up his own about cooking pancakes.

  


Shiro laughed, warmth blooming in his chest as it did whenever Lance did something endearing, which to Shiro was almost everything the other man did. He felt lighter, and although he feared the sting of rejection, his desire to see Lance was stronger.

  


He had to get up.

  


Pushing himself off the couch, Shiro took a moment to collect himself and make sure that his emotions weren't clearly painted all over his face before he headed to the kitchen. When he got there, he was disappointed to see that Lance was already dressed, although the skinny jeans did look good wrapped around his long legs, showing off the curve of his ass nicely as he bopped to the tune of the song.

  


Shiro coughed and dragged his eyes away before he was caught staring. “Good morning Lance.”

  


Lance stopped dancing and singing and looked over his shoulder to smile at Shiro. “Good morning. Breakfasts almost done,” he chirped brightly before turning back to the stove.

  


So he was going for the 'pretending nothing happened option.' Shiro considered it for a moment and found it stung less than a flat-out rejection would. He played along, quietly taking a seat at the table. “You know, you don't have to cook breakfast every day. You're welcome here, Lance.”

  


“I know, but I want to do something to repay you. Unless this is a bother? I could clean or do the shopping or something else instead if you prefer?” Lance said in a rush, his words coming out in an anxious babble. He glanced over his shoulder at Shiro, eyes wide, and Shiro saw the dark bags there, his hair mussed in a way that suggested he'd only half heartedly run his fingers through it not bothering to style it.

  


“It's no trouble, I'm very grateful. Thank you,” Shiro said firmly, quick to reassure Lance. The other man let out a breath and seemed to deflate, and Shiro's heart ached at how worn out he looked. Had he been up all night too? “I only meant that you shouldn't feel like you have to do anything, it's ok,” he added with a soft smile.

  


“I ain't no freeloader,” Lance said smartly, his spunk coming back although it was a bit forced. He turned back to the counter and returned a few moments later with two plates stacked high with pancakes. He set one down in front of Shiro, and place the other on the table for himself.

  


“I made enough for Keith too, but I don't think he's in,” Lance said. He glanced towards the doorway hesitant to sit down and start eating in case Keith walked in.

  


“He stayed at Hunk’s last night. Apparently, they had a lot of studying to do.” Shiro didn't need to look at his phone to know that was the excuse Keith would use.

  


“Oh, ok then. Do you think I should save some for him?”

  


“Yeah, I think he'll like that.”

  


Nodding Lance finally sat down and began to eat taking slow, small bites. “Did you sleep ok?” he asked after a few moments, chewing his bottom lip as he picked at his food.

  


“I-" Shiro was interrupted by a big yawn he couldn't stifle before he had the chance to lie.

  


Lance frowned and looked even more worried.

  


“I'm fine, I slept,” Shiro said quickly, but it wasn't enough.

  


“You need to get some proper sleep. Are you busy this morning? If not you should go have a nap. The bed’s free now,” Lance admonished in a tone that told Shiro he would not take no for an answer.

  


“I am free this morning, but what about you?”

  


“I'll be fine, I'll go find Keith or something.” His mind was made up.

  


It was tempting. As much as Shiro wanted to spend every free moment with Lance the nights on the couch were already starting to take their toll, and he still had the rest of the semester to get through. Right now, he wasn't sure he could even stay awake for the rest of the day. “Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll give Keith a call and find out who's free and you can go hang out with them.”

  


“Sounds good.” Lance, more cheerful now, went back to eating his pancakes.

  


* * *

 

 

“Are you sure you remember the way to the cafeteria? It's not far so I can walk with you if you like,” Shiro fussed as Lance was getting ready to leave.

  


“Yes, I'll be fine. Even if I do get lost I can just ask for directions,” Lance shot back with a confident grin. “Now I recommend a nice relaxing bath before bed, you'll sleep better. Here, use this,” Lance instructed handing Shiro a small, bright paper bag.

  


Shiro recognised it as one of the bath bombs. “No this is yours, I can just use bubble bath,” he protested, and he tried to push the package back into Lance's hands, but the other man refused to accept it. He let go, and danced back with a playful smile, so Shiro had no choice but to hold onto the bath bomb or drop it.

  


“You need it more. This one is supposed to be good for soothing muscles, and I could hear your bones cracking all the way in the kitchen when you woke up. Please use it.”

  


Shiro flushed and held on to the bath bomb tighter, feeling like a child getting scolded.

  


“I better go. Don't want to keep the others waiting. Text Keith when you've had at least 2 hours sleep, I'm not coming back until then!” Lance called as he walked to the front door, closing it behind him with a final slam.

  


“Thanks, Lance,” Shiro muttered to himself, clutching the bath bomb to his chest. It was stupid, but he almost wanted to keep it, and never use it, all because Lance had given it to him. The first gift he'd received from the other man.

  


Shaking his head, Shiro went to the bathroom to run himself a bath.

  


* * *

 

 

Lance was right, the bath did help relax him and soothe his aching muscles. The bath bomb was a fun addition, making the water bright and fragrant, and although he used to think it was all nonsense, there was definitely something in it that soothed him further.

  


Shiro climbed out of the water feeling refreshed, but he knew he should at least try and nap, if he didn't he would have to answer to Lance. He shuffled back to the bedroom and smiled when he saw the bed neatly made with one corner of the blanket turned down, ready for him, as if Lance had planned this all along.

  


Crawling under the covers Shiro snuggled into their warmth, pulling them tightly around him to breath in the smell that was a combination of him and Lance. A comforting, addictive scent Shiro could find himself easily getting used to.

  


He was asleep within moments.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this. Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Please look forward to the continuation coming soon.


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